


Stay With Me

by tm_writes



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heartache, Jon is a SEAL, Jonsa babies - Freeform, Married Life, Military fic, Modern Era, Sansa is a nurse, promise a happy ending, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22551598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tm_writes/pseuds/tm_writes
Summary: Sansa is a pediatric nurse and Jon is a Navy SEAL. They've been married for five years and are planning their future when an accident threatens everything
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 196
Kudos: 342





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is supposed to be short and sweet with a bit of angst so I've limited myself to three chapters. Just dipping my toe into Jonsa. Also Jon's mom is not Ned's sister FYI

Sansa barely bit back the groan as she stepped out of her shoes and into her darkened house. Twelve hours shifts were killer, and this one had been particularly brutal.

She flipped on the lights in the house, wandering through the foyer, the little formal dining room and then finally into the kitchen where she turned on the kettle on and sunk onto a stool at the island. She rested her head on the cold granite, happy just to be home and in her own space.

Sansa loved her job, but being a pediatric nurse wasn't for the faint of heart. Today they'd almost lost a little boy that had been battling cancer for over a year, and even though they'd gotten him stabilized, they all knew it was a matter of when and not if. His body was too weak, and he'd been fighting for so long now, Sansa saw it in his eyes. He was done with the pain, the chemo, the radiation, the needles. It physically hurt her heart when she knew medicine had done everything they could for a child, and it still wasn't enough.

It was moments like these when Sansa missed her husband more than ever. She lifted her head to glance at the pictures on their fridge.

In most, she was wrapped in Jon's arms, or he was kissing her, his face smiling and eyes dancing with love. He was so handsome he stole her breath, even now.

"I miss you so much, baby," Sansa said, eyes sliding to their wedding picture. They looked impossibly young and so damn happy. It was one of the best days of her life.

They'd been married five years already, and she loved him more each day. And she missed him like hell when he was away.

Jon was in the Navy, a SEAL team member to be exact, and he'd worked his ass off to achieve his dream. From the moment Sansa had met Jon, six years ago, she'd known that he was the one for her, and once they had started dating, they'd never looked back, seamlessly blending their lives and both falling deeply in love with one another.

Now, as a military wife of five years, Sansa had mostly gotten used to his deployments. Sometimes, they were short, only two months, while others went on for much longer. The longest had been nine months, and Sansa had been miserable by the end. The only good thing was that he'd been home for four months after that and they'd lived life large when he'd been back, travelling and spending every spare moment together. It has been one of the happiest times of her life.

Now Jon was five weeks into a three-month deployment, and even though Sansa had known what it meant to be a military spouse when she'd married Jon, tonight she just wanted her husband.

She forgot about the kettle as she wandered back to the master bedroom. Their house was tiny, with only two bedrooms, but they hardly needed more space. They'd held off on having children; she was twenty-seven, and Jon had just turned thirty. They both knew his military days were winding down. Jon had started to say he couldn't do this shit forever, although Sansa knew how much he loved it. When he was finally done going overseas, there would be time for a bigger house.

Sansa knew her husband was a hero, and he was happiest with her and with his team- saving the world and making it a safer place. For the most part, Sansa was so proud of him and his career. Except for the occasional time when she selfishly wanted him here, with her after a hellish day at work.

She glanced at her watch, seeing that it was almost 8 pm. That meant it was morning where he was; some godforsaken desert in Essos that was overrun with religious fanatics.

Sansa slipped out of her scrubs, and washed her face, too tired to think about dinner and opened her laptop, seeing if he was up. She knew that there was a critical mission coming up; he'd been upfront about that but couldn't say much more. In all honesty, Sansa learned not to ask questions. Jon was a SEAL team member, the very best of the best, and she knew what he did was dangerous. He needed all his focus when he was away and not to be worried about her.

Lately, though, Sansa wanted more. She was secure in her career, had a great position, and had been saving like mad, so when they did get pregnant, they could buy a bigger house. She was ready for the next stage of their lives.

And that was the rub. Sansa wanted to start a family, but she didn't want to do so when her husband was away so much. Before this deployment, he'd told her he had two more after this and then he'd be up for being discharged. He'd talked a little about life after the military, and maybe starting his own private security firm, but even Sansa was aware enough to know that he still loved his job, despite the danger. She hoped he was serious about getting out, though, because she thought he could be happy here, with her and a family they created.

She'd asked him one night, a month after they'd gotten together, as he played with her hair, and they lay on a mattress on the floor in his shitty apartment why he wanted to be a SEAL.

His brown eyes had warmed, and she had seen his passion for his chosen field. "Fuck, I can't think of anything better than being a hero, San. Saving people, making the bad guys pay, making the world a safer place."

She'd heard the sincerity in his voice and had risen to capture his lips in hers, swept up in his convictions. Jon never did anything in half measures; he just wasn't built that way.

"You're a good man, Jon Snow."

He'd blushed adorably, brushing her hair back from her face.

"It's not an easy life, San. I won't lie and tell you it is. All your friends, they're going to meet regular guys. Dudes that are accountants and doctors and lawyers…"

Sansa had shut him up with a kiss. She loved that he had such compassion in him, such drive, that he was willing to sacrifice so much so others could be safe. It was half the reason she'd fallen in love with him.

"I don't want them. I want you."

It had been the first night he'd said he loved her. Just looked her straight in the eyes, with no bullshit, and blurted out the words.

"I love you, Sansa Stark."

Sansa's entire world coalesced in that single moment. "I love you, Jon Snow." Jon was her future, her whole life and everything she wanted from a man. Honest, gentle, kind and loving.

He'd flipped them over then, sinking deep inside her, thrusting steadily as he held her gaze.

"I'm going to fucking marry you, Sansa, make you my wife," he told her, and she could only nod. She loved him so much, and she wanted that as well. She knew there was no other man for her but Jon.

This man was everything to her. He'd never lied about what he'd wanted, his dreams and ambitions. And he'd never sugar-coated how hard this life would be. Sansa was all in; had been from the moment they'd met. Jon was the love of her life, and she'd stand by him through all the trials and tribulations that came with his job taking him away from her and into some of the most dangerous places in the world.

Now though, with her crappy shift on her mind, Sansa grabbed one of Jon's navy t-shirts and crawled into bed, opening the secure messaging app that she had to communicate with him. She needed to connect with him.

**Sansa**: Miss you, baby.

She didn't expect a reply; it was 4 am there, but her computer dinger and her heart race.

**Jon**: Miss you too, beautiful. How was your shift?

**Sansa**: Brutal. Cancer. He's 4

**Jon**: Aww shit, baby. I'm so fucking sorry

**Sansa**: It’s just shitty, that's all

**Jon**: I wish I were there with you. I'd wrap you up so tight that you'd only feel my love

**Sansa**: I wish that as well. I'm wearing your shirt

**Jon**: That gets me hot, baby and you know the guys will tease me about it 😉

**Sansa**: I'm rolling my eyes🙄. Your guys worship you, Jon

Sansa knew it was true. Jon was the glue that kept the unit together. He was tight with all the guys on his team, but there were four in particular that he'd formed a super-strong bond with. Gendry Waters. Sandor Clegane. Tormund Giantsbane. And Ed Tollett

The five of them were a unit, and they were the best of the best, and as close as brothers. Maybe even closer. Sansa knew they’d got to the ends of the earth for one another.

**Jon**: K, baby, I gotta go. Morning PT. Love you.

**Sansa**: Love you too. I'm going to sleep. Talk soon.

Feeling better now that they'd 'talked' Sansa slipped into sleep. Five weeks down, only seven to go. They were almost halfway there and then only two more deployments after this. She could do this; she was a military wife, and she was strong. Her husband needed her love and support, and she'd give it all to him, knowing that he'd do everything in his power to come home to her, safe and sound and in one piece. It was half the reason she'd fallen so hard, so fast for Jon. He was a good man, loving, kind, caring and honest. And she loved him more and more every day.

* * *

As predicted, Sansa's patient had passed away three days after they had stabilized him, his little body just giving out. Sansa had held it together as the parents had sobbed when the monitors finally went dark, and the attending oncologist had called it. They'd wanted him to keep fighting, had begged and begged him, but Sansa had seen it in his eyes. He had taken one last shuddering breath and then had been gone.

She'd kept her professional mask in place, as others streamed in to deal with what had happened; the social workers and the people whose job it was to help families deal with the death of a child. It was the most unnatural thing in the world for parents to have to plan a funeral for their child, and Sansa's heart broke for them.

She'd been told to go home, that her shift was over even though she'd had three hours left. Sansa made it to the bathroom where she threw up and then dragged herself, in her full scrubs into the shower and let the hot water pour over her as she sobbed.

Weak and unsteady, she'd finally dried herself off and taken a sleeping pill, quickly shooting Jon a message telling him what happened. When he didn't reply right away, Sansa slid into their bed, lost in grief and heartbreak.

The next morning, Sansa had woken up to messages from her husband, telling her how much he loved her, how sad he was, how he missed her. It helped ease some of the ache. Sansa knew that he meant it as well. Jon felt things deeply, and he'd been an amazing well of support through her nursing career.

A morning run with her sister did Sansa wonders, as did the big family dinner at her parents’ sprawling Winterfell estate that night.

Ned and Cat were practically Northern royalty; the Stark family has been in the North for generations, and they were an important and politically connected family in the North. Her Dad owned a big lumber company.

Robb, her eldest brother, worked for him, carrying on the Stark family tradition. Arya was finishing university, while Bran was already on his masters and Rickon was just about to graduate from high school.

Robb and his wife Talisa had just had their second baby, so before dinner, Sansa took her niece and snuggled on the couch with her, while Cat plied Sansa with tea. Baby snuggles and Mama Cat's love was just what Sansa had needed to feel a bit better.

When she and Jon had first started dating, her Mom hadn't been Jon's biggest fan; she hadn't wanted her daughter to marry someone with a career as dangerous as his. But one look at the two of them together, and Ned had assured Cat that Jon was a good man for their princess.

Jon and her Dad got along spectacularly, which had made Sansa happy since Jon's Dad had abandoned him and his Mom when he was just a baby.

Robb flopped on the couch beside her, ruffling her hair.

"Bad week?"

Sansa sniffed.

"Yeah. I lost a patient yesterday."

Robb grimace. "Ahh fuck, Sanny, I'm sorry."

It hadn't been the first time, but her family knew how dedicated Sansa was, and since she worked in peds when Sansa lost a patient, they all knew it was devastating. The death of a child was a life-altering event and one that every parent feared.

Now that Robb was a father, he had confessed to Sansa one night he didn't know how she did it.

"Fuck, San, I don't know what I'd do if my kids ever got sick."

Robb had sowed plenty of wild oats over the years, but when he'd met Talisa, at a BBQ that Sansa and Jon had thrown for their friends and co-workers, Robb had immediately hit it off with the pretty dark-haired ER nurse.

Sansa and Talisa saw each other occasionally, but they hadn't worked in the same departments so they hadn’t know each other well. Then they'd both joined the hospital's softball team, and that's where they'd become close friends. Sansa had never thought that her wild older brother would take one look at Talisa and fall head over heels in love, but he had, and now they were best friends and sisters.

Sansa loved her niece and nephew, but holding Robb's daughter, it made Sansa long for a family of her own.

Robb must have seen something on her face. "How long until he's back?"

Robb and Jon were close for brothers-in-law, although their bond was nothing like the guys in Jon's unit. Those guys were his real brothers.

Sansa sighed, "Just under seven weeks."

"And then?"

Sansa looked at Robb, who shrugged.

"I want you to be happy, San."

"I love my husband, Robb."

"I know, San. But I also know you want a family and that you miss him when he's not here."

"Two more deployments, then he says he can apply for a discharge."

Robb thought that Jon was badass. The guy could probably kill him with his pinky finger, and he was ripped. And the man fucking loved his sister. Robb had never seen two people fall for each other the way they had. But it was hard on Sansa when Jon was away. Robb thought his sister was the real hero, stoically going about her life while her husband risked his to make this world a little less shitty. He felt for both of them.

Robb pressed a kiss to Sansa's head. "He loves you, San."

She grinned and leaned in to rest her head on Robb's shoulder. "I know."

Sansa had no idea what she would do without her family. They kept her grounded and feeling loved when Jon was away and made his assignments a little bit more bearable.

"Come on, sister, let's eat. Jon literally might kill me if he comes home to find out that we starved you."

Sansa grinned and shook her head, knowing she had a blessed life, despite the difficult career her husband had. She was proud of Jon, and what he did, and she was lucky to have the support and backing of her family when he wasn't around.

Sansa lifted Robb's daughter and handed her back to Robb, wrinkling her nose.

"I think she needs a diaper change," Sansa said, laughing when Robb groaned but loving how her brother kissed his baby girl and hurried to get her clean. Robb had happily traded beer pong, and one night stands for dirty diapers and sleepless nights. And he'd never looked happier.

As Sansa watched Robb change his daughter, she allowed herself to imagine her husband doing so one day, well, that was something to smile about. The thought of Jon with a baby of theirs, cradled in his strong arms, was enough to make Sansa's ovaries explode, and she vowed to broach the subject with him the next time he was home. Sansa wanted a family, and she didn't want to wait too much longer to try to start one. And maybe, just maybe, Jon was on the same page as her.

* * *

Jon cursed as he realized he missed his wife's messages. He could feel her heartache through the computer and hated that he wasn't there for her. She'd been close with her patient, and Sansa always took it hard when one of them died.

Jon loved his career; he loved that he was making a difference, that he was killing bad guys, and making the world a safer place. But he fucking missed his wife when he was away from her.

Jon had never figured he'd ever get married, or even get serious with a woman. His mother had struggled his entire life as a single parent, trying to give him everything she could on her meagre salary, while never opening herself up to another man. His father had been a total bastard, knocking her up while he was already married, then ditching them both to go back to his wife, only to die a few years after Jon was born in a car accident.

Jon had asked his Mom once when she didn't press for some of his estate, but she'd shook her head and said she didn't want to expose him to that side of his family.

It was why Jon knew at a young age that he was always going to go into the military. He was great with math and commuters, but they had no money for university. The military was a way out for Jon, a path to a better life.

Still, he'd never expected to fall head over heels in love as he had the moment Sansa had bumped into him six years ago. He knew he was a goner from the moment she'd shyly smiled at him. They were insertable from that first moment, and Jon never regretted giving her his whole heart. She was his entire world.

She was everything he'd never thought he'd have; loyal, kind, smart, funny, compassionate, and so sweet his heart swelled whenever he thought of her, which was all the time.

When he knew he had serious feelings for Sansa, he'd been open and honest about his aspirations and how tough life was for a military spouse. Because even though they weren't yet engaged, Jon wanted everything with Sansa. He wanted her to be his, but he'd never lie and tell her their life would be easy.

She'd accepted his life, accepted the risks he'd have to take, and then supported the fuck out of him as he'd worked his ass off to survive SEAL hell week until he finally was one of only a handful of men that came through the gruelling two-week training session to become an official SEAL team member. It was a life long dream he'd achieved with Sansa by his side.

And even that wasn't the best moment of his life. That was reserved for when Sansa had walked down the aisle towards him, in a white dress and said I do, and became his wife.

As much as Jon loved his career, lived for the adrenaline and the sheer rightness of what he was doing, being away from Sansa was hell. And it was getting harder and harder with each deployment. He knew she wanted kids. Fuck, so did he. And he knew that it was hell for her as well when he was away. It was why he was making plans- plans to get out and into civilian life.

Two more deployments after this, and he could apply for his discharge. He knew that it was what they both needed, and he was excited about real life after the military.

Now he was clad in only a towel, still dripping wet from his shower as he checked his encrypted computer. The relentless dust and wind in the Essos dessert were brutal, as was the daily physical training routines they went through. They were stationed at the base of a colossal mountain range, and they just received intel that the enemy was targeting a village where one of their best informants lived. Also, one of their high-value targets (HVT) was said to be making an appearance during this raid.

A twenty man team was being inserted to try and hold off the insurgents, while another five-man team, his, was tasked with taking out the HVT.

Part of Jon was sick at the thought that they were using the villagers as bait; this mission had all the makings to go FUBAR, but he wasn't the guy that made that call. He was the guy that executed that got shit done. They were to be deployed in less than two hours, and Jon hoped to hell Sansa would hop back online so he could say a few words to her before he had to leave.

He was in his temporary bedroom when there was a knock on the door, and Sandor pushed inside. Jon grinned at his friend, who was scratching at his beard.

"You heard from her?"

Sandor was friends with Sansa, having been fascinated by her since the moment she and Jon met. Even though Sansa had an older brother, Sandor treated Sansa like his little sister.

Jon shook his head. "Fuck, she's probably with the Starks." It was supper time and knowing she was upset about her patient dying, and she'd be with her family.

"Fuck," Sandor muttered. He knew how much Jon loved his wife, and Jon had told the team about Sansa losing a patient today. It was like that with them; these men were tight and knew everything about each other's lives.

Tormund was married to Brienne and was currently pregnant with their third child, while Ed's wife Alysanne lived in the North in a little place called Bear Island and had just found out she was expecting their first. Only Sandor and Gendry were single.

"Yeah," Jon said, sending a message through anyway. Maybe she'd come home early. Their deployment time had been moved up due to the movement of the insurgents, and Jon hadn't had a chance to tell her. He hated leaving without one last conversation.

"You still thinking about getting out?" Sandor asked, taking a seat as he ate his dinner. Or lunch. Or was it breakfast? He didn't fucking know and didn't care. This mission was making him twitchy.

"Yeah," Jon said, frowning at his computer. Nothing from Sansa. He finally looked up at Sandor. "I want a family; kids. And fuck, we can only do this so many times before we punch our ticket, right?"

Sandor grunted. He had nothing. Not a wife, not a girlfriend, not even a fucking dog. He knew Jon had a pretty shitty childhood, but the man had lucked out when he'd met Sansa. Sandor had never seen two people so meant for one another, and no matter what, if something went sideways, Sandor had vowed that his friend would go home to his pretty wife.

"Fuck," Jon muttered again, glancing at his watch. He knew he needed to focus, to get ready, to leave his thoughts about his life in Westeros behind and focus on the mission.

**Jon**: Hey, baby, heading out soon. Deployment got moved up. I might be out of contact for a few days. I love you and miss you. We'll talk when I get back.

Hating that he still hadn't heard from her by the time he was done packing, Jon sent her one last message.

**Jon**: Been thinking a lot about our future, San. I think I want to get started on making those babies with you. I want a family. Fuck, I miss you. Love you.

He sat on his bed and played a short clip of them. Robb had taken the video when they'd been in the backyard, Jon standing at the grill, cooking burgers as Sansa had her arms wrapped around his midsection. In it, Jon had turned to kiss her, like he seemed to do a million times a day when he was home, and she'd lit up and kissed him back. When he'd deepened the kiss, she'd giggled and told him he was a bad man, and Jon had wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'm your bad man, baby," sending her into another round of laughter.

Fucking hells, he missed her so much.

"Love you, baby," he told her frame on the video, before finally shutting his computer down.

With one last glance at their wedding picture, Jon stroked a finger down it. They took nothing personal in the field with them; nothing that could identify them if they were captured and nothing that would make their families targets. He'd have to make do with his memories of her, and the sound of her voice, which he could call up when needed in the coming days.

As he joined his unit, Jon somehow pushed thoughts of her and their life away and focused on the mission at hand. All that mattered now was getting the job done and getting home to his wife.

* * *

Sansa felt lighter when she came into her home later that night. Her family was crazy and nosy, but loving and just what she had needed to remind her there was still good in this world. She hoped that Jon might be around so that they could chat for a bit. She knew there was an upcoming mission, but that was a few days away.

Her heart sank when she saw the message waiting and that she'd missed him. These were the scariest times; when she knew he was out doing something that there were only a handful of people in the entire world trained to do. It made Jon a real-life superhero, but it also made it so that she worried incessantly.

And she hated that she'd missed connecting with him.

Thankfully, Sansa had three back to back twelve-hour shifts, by which time, her husband should be back from his mission, safe and sound. And there was the bonus of him finally bringing up children!

Sansa knew that they were finally on the same page, both ready for that next step, and she couldn't wait to try. She'd wanted to be a mom her entire life, and when her husband was home, she was planning on trying. She'd stop her birth control tomorrow, and get her body ready so there would be no delays. He was getting out, and Sansa was getting her husband back.

With that happy thought, she pushed the dangers of his mission from her mind and poured herself one last glass of wine, while she sunk into a bath with her Kindle and a new romance novel, excitement humming through her body as she thought about her future.

* * *

Sansa had heard from her patients' parents that there was a moment, or moments in your life, that are so life-altering, so earth-shattering, so awful that a person will always remember them. It is almost a visceral response; one mom had told her.

"I can still smell the doctor's cologne when he said the words fatal heart defect," she had shared with Sansa after her daughter had passed away.

Sansa had tried to offer comfort to these people, but she'd never really known what they felt like.

Until now. She had looked up from her charts at the central nursing station in the pediatric ward and seen two men in military uniforms walking directly towards her.

She could smell stale coffee, Jeyne's deodorant and the faint smell of cleaner and vomit.

Her friend Jeyne was there, her arms wrapped around Sansa, as Sansa started to say, "No, no, no, no, no."

Their faces were grim as they approached her.

"Mrs. Snow?"

Sansa clutched at Jeyne's hand and nodded. "Yes, that's me."

"You need to come with us. There's been an incident."

Sansa felt numb. "Where is Jon? Where is my husband?"

One man's mouth tightened, while the other spoke.

"Ma'am, I won't lie. He's in bad shape. He's currently being transported to a military hospital in Bravos. That's all we know. We have a plane waiting to take you to him."

Sansa felt like her world was imploding, and she looked at Jeyne. "Go with them. I'll tell your family."

Sansa nodded numbly, only stopping to grab her purse and coat and change into some yoga pants and a sweatshirt before she followed the men to the waiting SUV. When they were inside, there was silence.

"Is he…"

"He's alive, as of last reports, Ma'am."

"What happened?"

They both shook her head, and Sansa felt herself start to tremble. This was Jon. He was a hero, larger than life, the man that could do anything. This was her husband — the love of her life.

And now, he was what? Clinging to life? How?

Sansa took out her phone, seeing a family chat had been started.

Her parents said they'd catch the next flight, and meet her there. All she could do was say thanks. She had nothing; no words, no thoughts, no emotions. She twisted her wedding band and the small diamond solitaire that was her engagement ring. Jon had promised he'd get her a bigger one, one day, but Sansa hadn't cared. She'd loved it. She loved him. He was her entire world. She didn't need a big ring; just Jon.

When they got to the airport, there was a military transport waiting for her. The two soldiers just nodded at her as they escorted her through security and then gestured to the plane.

"You're not coming?"

They shook their head, and the talkative one said, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. Our job was just to get you here."

She gave them a jerky nod, wondering how she was supposed to do this. Slight pressure on her arm had her turning back to them.

"He's a SEAL, Ma'am. Best of the best. Remember that."

Sansa nodded and said a soft, "Thank you," and got two curt nods in return.

Then she turned and climbed the stairs, wondering if anything in her life would ever be the same again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa remembers highlights of their life and gets to Jon's side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys!!!!!!
> 
> Blown away by the response to this story!!!! 
> 
> It is quite a bit more angsty than I'm used to writing. 
> 
> I still plan on it being relatively short and a caveat- I am neither a nurse nor a military person so I do the best I can, but if I mess something up apologies ahead of time!
> 
> Also- my challenge to myself was to keep this story short (I am NOT known for that) and see if I could get the Jonsa vibe down. So let me know how I'm doing!
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> T

Sansa sat perfectly still as the airplane she was on lifted off from Wintertown. She didn't even acknowledge the others with her; she was too lost in her head, in the memories she had made with the man she loved. She had no capacity in her to make small talk, and since it was a military jet, no one expected it out of her.

Besides, the only place she wanted to be was in her own head, thinking of Jon.

Jon liked to joke that she had crashed into his life – literally, as she'd bumped into him at a pub in White Harbour when she and her university friends had gone out the first weekend of their second semester. It wasn't even their typical hangout, just some dark and dingy pub that they had stumbled upon. Of course, Sansa had to go and trip the moment she’d walked towards the bar to order and drink, and it was Jon's hand that had reached out and steadied her.

Later, once they were officially together, he'd whisper in her ear that he knew at that moment that he was never letting her go. Sansa didn't even have a reply to that, because the moment he touched her, she knew as well that he was it for her.

It was ridiculous, the idea of falling in love at first sight, but they had. And neither one ever cared how much people bugged them about it.

After Jon had steadied her at the pub and smiled kindly, Sansa and her friends joined Jon and his at their table, and they'd spent the entire evening together, laughing and getting to know one another. At one point, Jon slipped his hand into hers, and it felt like the most natural thing in the entire world.

Sansa had beamed at him, and he'd winked at her, and she'd fallen a bit harder for him, just like that. He was so gorgeous he’d taken her breath away, but it was his eyes and a kind smile that really sucked her in. From that first night, Sansa had known she could trust Jon with everything.

Every moment after that first night, whenever they could squeeze time into their busy schedules they were together. Jon was busy with the navy, while Sansa was in her second year of getting her nursing degree.

Sansa could still remember that first evening with perfect clarity when Jon had taken her back to her apartment and kissed her sweetly.

"At the risk of coming across as much to forward, I'm going to chance it," he'd said, a little grin on his handsome face. She could see the nerves there, but she knew he had nothing to be worried about. Her heart had raced. She didn't want the evening to end and was worried she'd never see Jon again.

"Can I see you again?" he asked.

"Yes." Sansa knew her smile was huge. She had no game when it came to this man; just an open book of how much she liked him.

"Tomorrow night?"

Sansa grinned at how eager and nervous he sounded.

"Yes," she said and then threw her arms around him and kissed him back, pressing herself to him. Jon held her close, tilting her head to deepen their kiss.

"Fuck, baby, you hit me like a lightning bolt," he told her, nuzzling her neck and tugging on her ear. Sansa felt the desire rocket straight down to her core, making her moan.

Sansa felt the same way, although she worried a bit since she wasn't very experienced in dating. Her mother hadn't let her have too many dates in high school, and the boys in her first-year university had seemed just like that; boys. She'd had a date or two, but nothing serious. And suddenly she was worried that Jon would care about that.

"Uhmmm, I'm not very experienced," she had blurted out, and then blushed, feeling raw and vulnerable with Jon. He was so handsome, older than her at twenty-four and had his life planned out. Maybe he was looking for someone more sophisticated, more worldly than her? Maybe he wasn’t even looking for a girlfriend? Sansa was twenty one, and knew that some men liked women that had more experience than her.

"Fuck, Sansa," he growled in her ear, dragging her back against him and kissing her breathless again.

"Not helping me slow down, baby. I have half a mind to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to my place and keep us there all weekend long."

Sansa's entire body warmed at that idea. She'd never had any man want her as much as Jon seemed to want to. She giggled.

"Maybe we date first," she told him and loved how he nodded, cupping her cheek and looking directly into her eyes.

"I'm going to do this right, Sansa. You're special," he told her. With any other man, she might have thought it had been a line to get her into bed, but not from him. “I love that you’re so unspoiled. It just means I get to be the guy that makes everything perfect for you.”

From that first moment, Jon had treated her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world.

He'd gone out of his way to make their dates fun and exciting, and when she'd confessed she was a virgin, he hadn't pressured her for sex. Of course, by the end of the first month of dating, Sansa had taken matters into her own hands when he hadn’t made a move to do anything more than get her off with his fingers. She knew she had deep, deep feelings for this man, and she wanted him in a way she'd never wanted anyone. She wanted Jon to be her first. And hopefully the only man she ever slept with.

A month after they'd first met, they'd gone back to their pub for their date, and then Sansa had tugged Jon inside her apartment at the end of the night. His eyes had widened, and then a grin lit his face.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I want you, Jon. Do you want me?"

He'd picked her up then, easily. The man was ripped and in such great shape that Sansa wanted to lick him from head to toe, as he carried her to her bedroom, placing her gently on her bed.

"Sansa, I've never wanted anyone as I want you," Jon said, sincerity lacing his words. "I want you to be sure, though, baby, because once I make love to you, San, I'm never, ever giving you up. You're mine."

Sansa's heart exploded.

"You're mine as well, Jon," she said, and then she sat up and pulled her sweater off, revealing the bra she'd picked out for him.

It was pretty pink lace, and the most daring thing she'd ever bought, but watching his brown eyes heat with desire as he sucked in a breath, Sansa knew it had been the right choice.

"Oh gods, you're the most beautiful woman in the world," Jon muttered, reaching up to touch her.

The way he looked at her, Sansa knew this was the man she would marry. No one could have that much love in their eyes, that much desire, that much care, and not be whom she was supposed to be with.

Now, on this noisy plane, Sansa stifled a cry, biting her hand when she thought about how he'd taken his time with her, making her come again and again, first with his fingers, then his mouth. Oh! His wicked, talented mouth, that loved to feast on her. She'd been a limp noodle by the time he'd finally undressed, and the cocky grin on his face was a memory she could recall with ease. He'd been so pleased that she was so well-loved, that when he finally sunk into her, there had been no pain. He had just fit seamlessly into her body as if it had been designed for him and him alone. It had been a transformative experience and one that Sansa knew most virgins never got.

After that first night, Jon awakened something in her; and they'd spent months exploring every possible way to have sex. Sansa had been shocked at how wanton and needy the man made her.

The night after they'd made love the first time, they'd both confessed that they were in love. It was that rock-solid foundation that allowed Sansa to open herself up to Jon in a way she hadn't with any other person. Ever. And she’d been rewarded with a rich and satisfying sex life ever since.

With a thump from the plane, Sansa was brought back to her harsh reality. Her husband was injured. "Stay with me, Jon," Sansa whispered raggedly to herself as the military aircraft hit attitude.

"One hour, Ma'am, and then we'll land," a pretty female marine told her and Sansa nodded, noting she'd bit her fist so hard, she'd drawn blood. She didn’t even feel the painful injury, that’s how numb she was.

Unable to do anything else, Sansa sunk back into her happy memories.

Two months after they'd started dating, Jon had moved in with Sansa. Her apartment was nicer, owing to the fact that her parents paid for her room and board as long as she was in school, and it was closer to his base and her university. They hadn't even hesitated, just jumped at the thought of living together, both of them so ecstatically happy.

They'd talked endlessly, often forgoing sleep in those early months when they’d lived together, to learn everything they could about one another. Jon knew that Sansa wanted a career, but more, she wanted to be married and have children.

She'd blushed when she'd told him that, but she'd been firm. "I know I'm young, but I also know what I want."

Jon had confessed he'd never even thought of marriage, and Sansa's heart had sunk a little bit until he'd shyly produced a ring box. Naked and wrapped up in each other, six months to the day they'd first met, Jon had asked her.

"Baby, I never thought I'd marry because I never believed in soulmates. Then I met you and everything in my world changed Sansa. I want it all with you. I want you to be my girl, forever. I want to marry you and be your husband, and I want babies with you one day. A whole life, together, Sansa."

She was sobbing by this point, hardly able to see him, and the grin on his face told her that he knew she'd say yes.

"Marry me, Sansa. I'm not rich; I won't ever be rich. But no one will ever fucking love you like I do. I swear I'll make you happy, baby. Every single day of our lives."

"YES!" she'd cried and thrown her arms around him, kissing him passionately. "Yes, yes, yes. A million times, yes, I'll marry you, Jon."

Sansa had known they were impossibly young; she was only twenty one, Jon twenty-four. But she also knew this man was it for her. She'd fallen for him from the moment she met him.

They'd married that summer, at Winterfell, and it was one of the best days of Sansa's life.

Now, as the plane banked right, she looked at her wedding ring and wondered if she'd be a widow at twenty-five.

* * *

Sansa braced herself as the plane landed, the big military jet not created for comfort but to haul cargo. Still, it had gotten her here to Bravos quickly, and that was all that mattered. She walked off the plane to see two more military personal waiting for her.

"Mrs. Snow?"

She nodded.

"This way, Ma'am," the older man said, putting his hand on her elbow to guide her to a waiting SUV. When they were inside, the female drove while he turned to face her.

"Your husband is in surgery as we speak. He is in critical condition." He pursed his lips and then sighed. "What I am about to tell you cannot be shared, Mrs. Snow."

"Alright."

Sansa felt her stomach clench and that she might be sick, but she'd been a nurse for long enough to know she needed information. Critical condition was just that – critical.

"I cannot share the details with you, but your husband's unit was inserted to take out a high-value target. They carried out their mission successfully. Unfortunately, before we could get them out, they were ambushed and came under heavy fire." The man paused and Sansa swore he aged five years in front of her very eyes. "Ed Tollet is dead, Mrs. Snow, along with Gendry Waters. Tormund Giantsbane and Sandor Clegane have also been airlifted to the hospital, and both are in even worse condition than your husband."

The man shook his head. "It's a god damn miracle any of them are alive. Thirty fucking men and three made it out."

Sansa sucked in a painful breath. Not Ed, her brain screamed, thinking of the positive pregnancy test that Aly had sent her the other day. They had been so excited and at twenty eight has been excited to start a family. Sansa's heart ached.

And Gendry. Sweet, lovable Gendry. He’d been a year younger than her. Sansa felt like stone, the pain too much.

"And Jon?"

The man met her eyes. "Two gunshot wounds; one to the shoulder, one to the chest area. He had a collapsed lung. They had to traverse quite an unforgiving area while being chased by insurgents, Mrs. Snow. He also has a broken leg, several broken ribs, multiple contusions, and there was some internal bleeding."

Sansa nodded, choking back the tears. Jon needed her to be strong now. There would be time to collapse later when she was alone.

"Thank you for telling me," was all she said, looking out the window, but barely seeing the landscape whiz by.

"And the others?"

The man shook his head. "Giantsbane will most likely lose one of his legs below the knee, and Clegane was badly burned; thirty percent on one side of his body."

Sansa sucked in a shocked gasp. Thirty percent of his body burned? She let the tears fall then, knowing how much Sandor hated fire. He'd opened up to her, once, about the scar on his face. What had to happen to put him in such a position again? Sansa wondered. 

"Clegane's a fucking hero, Mrs. Stark. Pardon my language, but he dragged both Snow and Giantsbane through a hailstorm of bullets to get them to safety, and they still lit him up. I don't even know how he's still alive."

Sansa shook her head, not knowing how to process any of this. It all sounded unreal to her.

How would they recover from this, even if they did live? Jon and Ed were tight; had been since basic training. Sandor was like the older brother that Jon never had. And Tormund? He was larger than life and had three little kids. It was a nightmare of epic proportions.

"Is Brienne coming?"

The man nodded. "She's on her way."

Brienne and Tormund lived North of Wintertown, outside a small town name Castle Black. Tormund was from the far North and claimed anything south of that was too warm. Brienne, the wonderful woman that she was, had followed her husband to where he was happiest. They had a small farm where Tormund puttered around when they were on leave. Jon and Sansa had gone there a few times, and they'd love spending time with Brienne and Tormund.

Sansa was ashamed to admit that until the man in the front seat, whose name she didn't know and had no desire to know, had told her about the rest of the unit, she hadn't even thought about Tormund once. Or the others. Her entire focus had been on Jon, which sent a wave of guilt crashing through her.

"Do you know if Clegane has anyone?" the man asked again. "There was nothing in his file, and you and Jon are listed as his emergency contact people."

Sansa whimpered and shook her head. "No," she whispered. They were Sandor's family. The man had no one else. Just like Jon.

Jon's Mom had died shortly after they'd been married from cancer, so for almost their entire marriage, her family had been all Jon had. Her family and his unit. Now most of them were gone.

Soon enough, they were at the hospital, and Sansa was escorted through the ER and straight to the surgical floor and deposited into the little waiting room. She'd been a nurse long enough to know that the next few hours would be brutal, and she saw more than one person give her a sympathetic look. They knew who she was and they knew that things were touch and go.

Sansa took a seat and tried not to make eye contact with anyone, afraid that the looks of pity would be too much. Instead, she just whispered over and over again, _Stay with me, Jon. Stay with me_.

* * *

The surgeon emerged before either Cat, Ned or Brienne arrived.

Sansa stood and saw it in the man's eyes before he even spoke.

Jon had survived!

He might not be out of the woods yet, but Sansa had seen that look on more than one doctor's face. It was the look of a man that had gone head to head with the devil himself and emerged victoriously. This man had snatched life from death's grip today, and the recipient of his skilled hands was her husband.

"He made it thought, Mrs. Snow," the surgeon told her, gripping her arm and guiding her back down to a seat. "He's in a medically induced coma right now. His lung did collapse from the bullet wound, and he lost his spleen. But we stopped the internal bleeding, set his leg, and dug the bullet out of his shoulder."

"Oh gods," Sansa said, shaking now. "Thank you."

He nodded. "It's going to be a long road to recovery, but your husband is in excellent shape. I don't expect any permanent damage. I can't even believe he survived what he did, but he's a tough fucker, that's for sure."

Sansa gave him a watery grin at the swear word. Apparently army doctors had a different bedside manner than those in a regular hospital.

"He is. When can I see him?"

"He's in ICU."

Sansa nodded. "I'm a nurse."

The doctor assessed her. "That's good. Really good. He's going to need to listen to you as he recovers. These SEAL guys think they're invincible. You can go in, suited up, in a few minutes. Ten minutes, Mrs. Snow."

"Each hour?" she pushed, and he grinned.

"Ten minutes, each hour,” he agreed.

He rose then and went to leave before Sansa asked about Sandor and Tormund. He turned back, frowning. "I'll find out for you, Mrs. Snow."

"Thank you." With another nod, the man who had saved Jon's life was gone. Sansa hadn't even gotten his name, but she would never forget him. She owed him everything.

* * *

Sansa waited as long as she could stand, and then she went to the ICU. They must have known she was coming because the smiles she got were soft and warm. They helped her wash and suit up, and then took her to where Jon was. The head nurse paused before they entered.

"I know you're a nurse, but that's not a patient in there. That's your husband. And he looks like hell. So prepare yourself," she told Sansa in a firm but kind voice.

Sansa jerked her head once.

Then the plastic was pushed back, and Sansa saw Jon for the first time in over a month. She couldn't hold back the pained gasped. He was intubated to help with his breathing, his leg in a full cast, with more bandages on his face and arms. Sansa knew they'd have him sedated, but she hadn't prepared for how small, and weak the man who had been so vital in her life would look.

A chair was brought for her, and she sank down, grabbing Jon's hand and squeezing. She brushed her hand against the tattoo he had of a wedding ring. When he was on leave, he wore the white gold band she'd chosen for him, but when he went away, he left it behind. That's what the tat was for; the let everyone know he was hers.

"Hey, baby," she said to him softly and gently. Sansa pushed back some dark curls.

Being in his unit, Jon's team was allowed facial hair and longer hair than was typical in the military. Sansa loved his curls and his scruff, although he was in need of a trim. She leaned down and kissed his forehead gently.

"You made it, babe. I knew you would. No one is as tough as you and your brothers Jon. They said you completed your mission, even with all this done to you. I'm so proud, baby, so damn proud of you. And I'm so proud to be your wife. I'm here now, Jon, and I'm not going anywhere."

Sansa sucked in a little sob. "I love you so much, baby, and whatever we need to do, I'll be there every step of the way. I'm never giving up on you, Jon. So you fight, and when you are a little better, I'll be the first thing you see when you wake up."

Sansa kissed him again and then just sat and talked to him. She told him about Robb's daughter and the new recipe she'd made. She spoke about Arya and how she was determined to do something with her brand new business degree. She told him that she'd found the perfect dog for them, a labradoodle and that she'd met a lady that was breeding them in the North. It was all nonsense but she couldn’t stop the words from coming.

When her ten minutes were up, she squeezed Jon’s hand and told him she loved him again and then kissed him and slipped out of the room.

Back in the waiting room, Sansa pushed open the door to the bathroom and then locked it, collapsing on the floor and sobbing into her knees. She was overwhelmed with the emotions that were bombarding her; happiness, joy, sadness, worry, fear, and so much uncertainty. He'd survived the surgery, and his prognosis was good.

But sometimes, things went wrong. He wasn't conscious, and he had an incredible amount of damage done to his body. They weren’t in the clear yet.

When she stopped crying, she washed her face and then went back to the waiting room, seeing she had 45 minutes until her next visit. She took out her phone and updated the group chat, letting her family know that Jon was alive. She saw she had an email from work. They'd placed her on an indefinite leave, which she was grateful for, and her parents said they were boarding their flight in an hour.

With nothing left to do, Sansa sat and stared at the clock, willing the minutes to tick by until she could see Jon again. Her entire world was reduced to waiting for the time to come where she could be back by his side; he was everything to her, and Sansa was determined that she would move heaven and earth to make sure he came back to her because he was hers and he belonged with her.

They were going to survive this, and then they were going home, where the rest of their lives were waiting to begin.

* * *

The pattern of visiting her husband for ten minutes every hour continued for the next several hours until finally, Ned and Cat arrived. Upon seeing how exhausted Sansa was, Ned ordered Cat to take her to the hotel. Sansa had collapsed into uncontrollable sobs, where Ned had cradled her in his strong arms.

"I'm here, princess. Let me be with him. He's like a son to me, San," Ned told her roughly, and those words penetrated. She nodded into Ned's chest.

"This is a marathon, Sansa. You need to keep up your strength."

"They won't tell me anything about Sandor and Tormund, Daddy," she whispered brokenly. Brienne still hadn't arrived, and Sansa wasn't even sure if they were still alive.

Ned cupped her face. "You will go and sleep, and eat and when you come back, I'll have some answers, sweetie."

Sansa wanted to argue, but one look at Ned's face and she nodded. She was exhausted and felt ready to collapse. She knew she'd be no good to Jon if that happened. It was only that thought that had her agreeing to leave for a few hours.

"Alright."

"Good." Ned kissed her on the forehead and then sent her with Cat to their hotel.

The last image Sansa had of her Dad was him demanding to speak to someone about the status of Sandor Clegane. Grateful to have some support, Sansa let herself be taken care of by her Mom, trusting that Jon would survive a few hours while she refuelled and caught up on sleep. Still, as she curled up in the bed, Sansa couldn't help but let the tears come. Her entire world had been turned upside down, and she was feeling helpless as she tried to navigate her new reality.

Before she fell asleep, she played a short video of Jon.

He was leaning against the counter of the kitchen, eating a peach. And he was making the most indecent noises as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. Sansa was struck again by how beautiful a man her husband was.

"It's obscene how you're eating that," Sansa said, laughing at the picture he was making.

He winked at her, licked his fingers and then said, "Imagining it's you I'm eating, baby?"

Sansa shook her head. "Jon!"

Sansa wanted to be scandalized, but she hadn't been. Her husband had always been a generous lover, and oral was always on the table with him. Hell Jon going down on her was a daily occurrence when her husband was home, and Sansa had no complaints. Hell yeah, she had wanted to be that peach.

He threw the pit in the garbage and then started to saunter towards her, his face lit with desire. Heat had pool fast and low in Sansa's core. She couldn't get enough of this man.

"Because as I was eating my peach, I was thinking about eating sweet Sansa pu…" the video stopped after that, but Sansa remembered what had happened next.

Jon had leaned down and sucked in her neck while his other hands worked her shorts off her body, and he'd sunk to his knees to eat her out right there in the kitchen. Sansa had dug her hands into his curls, pinning his mouth there as she shamelessly ground herself against his mouth and tongue. She'd screamed his name, right there, where anyone could have walked in on them and didn't care one bit.

It was the last video she had of them, and Jon had kept them in bed the whole weekend after that before he'd deployed on Monday morning.

"I love you, baby. Stay with me," she whispered to his image in the scene as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Sansa woke a few hours later, feeling a million times better. She quickly showered and forced herself to eat a bowl of soup before her Mom took her back to the hospital. It was midnight, and they walked into the waiting room to see Brienne there with two red-haired children and her pregnant belly. The women embraced and cried, and Brienne told Sansa she wasn't allowed to see Tormund yet.

He was in even worse shape than Jon; his leg had been amputated, and he'd taken multiple gunshots wounds, and his internal damage had been worse.

"And Sandor?"

"Burn unit," her Dad said grimly. "He's lucky to even be alive, Sansa."

She nodded. "How was Jon?"

Her Dad gave her a tired smile. "No change, which is a good thing, dear."

Cat had settled herself beside Brienne, while Sansa went back to the ICU for her ten minutes with Jon. She couldn't even imagine what Brienne was going through.

When Sansa slipped into the chair beside Jon's bed, she kissed him again and cheerfully spoke of their first few Halloween's together. Jon had, to Sansa's surprise, been a big fan of the holiday, and if he'd been around, they'd always dressed as a couple.

They'd even won a prize one year when they dressed as characters from the popular Game of Thrones TV show. Sansa didn't watch it; it was way too violent for her liking, but Jon loved it. Jon had laughed as she'd donned a platinum colour wig and some skimpy outfit, and he'd called her Khaleesi the whole night. He was dressed like some barbarian and kept grunting at her and saying _Sun and Stars_. Sansa had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but everyone had gotten a kick out of them, and the memory was a good one.

Her second visit, she'd reminded him of their last Christmas and how he'd promised her a baby.

"And you've never broken your word to me yet, Jon. So I'm going to keep you to it. I want a family, babe. I want little dark-haired babies, Jon. Lots of them. I’m thinking at least four. And that means you need to get better."

By her third visit, she was laughing as she talked about their disastrous camping trip that'd taken to the Eyrie one summer. It had poured rain for a week, their tent had leaked and a racoon ate half their food. But they'd been wildly in love and found bed and breakfast to spend the last few days making love and drinking hot chocolate. Sansa treasured those memories.

On and on it went; for three straight days. Sansa rested for a few hours at a time, but she spent hours countless hours by Jon's side when she added up all the ten-minute increments.

Brienne had finally been allowed to see Tormund, but only briefly. Her father had flown in from the Sapphire Isle to give her some support, and Sansa knew Brienne was struggling when the doctor approached the Stark's on day four to discuss extubating Jon and weaning him off the sedation drugs.

"He's doing remarkably well, and I think his lungs can handle it," the surgeon said. Sansa had nodded eagerly, knowing if he could come off the ventilator and breathe on his own, he might be out of the ICU within the next few days.

She had wanted to be there when they did it but was told a definite no, and she had paced the hallways waiting for word. When they finally came back to her and told her that he was doing well and breathing on his own, Sansa broke down and wept. Slowly over the next twenty-four hours, they'd reduce the drugs, until hopefully, he woke up.

While he was still in the ICU, once he woke up and was stabilized, Jon could be moved to a private room. And Sansa was allowed to spend more and more time with him. Combined with her nursing skills and the incredible recovery of Jon, everyone had agreed that she was hardly a hindrance.

Sansa had just finished reading Jon a long text from Robb about explosive diarrhea and how he’d gagged when cleaning it up. Robb’s text had ended, “Dude I can’t wait until you join the Dad club with me. Lonely here, bro.”

"Gods, that's one aspect of babies I won't wish for," she muttered. Her brother had been way too descriptive. Sansa was just about to respond to Robb text when she felt Jon squeeze her hand. Sansa looked up from her phone and saw his eyes fluttering, and she stood, glancing at the monitor and then down at Jon.

"Baby?" Sansa whispered standing to lean over him. "Jon? Can you hear me?"

His eyes fluttered some more, and then slowly opened, confused at first, before they settled on her. She could tell he was in pain; it was clear as day to see it in his eyes, but he quirked out a tiny twitch of his lips.

"San?"

"Yeah, Jon. It's me. I'm here. You're safe, baby. You're alive."

He nodded and then coughed a bit. Sansa saw the nursing team rush in, followed quickly by his doctor. She stepped back, giving them space to do their job, watching like a hawk as he was offered some water, and checked him over. When they finally stepped back, Jon turned to find her again, and Sansa rushed to his side, unable to keep the tears from streaming down her eyes.

"You're back," she whispered, pressing her lips to his.

"Yeah, babe. I'm never leaving you, San."

"Gods, Jon." Sansa gulped in a sob, trying to get herself under control. "I love you."

"Love you too, babe. Always. You're my forever, Sansa." His eyes met hers before she could see them flutter shut.

"Don't leave me, baby," he whispered. "Stay with me."

Then sleep claimed him as he was holding her hand.

Sansa pressed her lips to his forehead again. "I'll never leave you, Jon. Never ever. Rest now."

Sansa knew this sleep was different. This wasn't a drug-induced coma to help his body heal. This was regular, exhausted sleep. It meant he was on the mend; it meant he'd beaten the odds. It meant that Jon Snow would be coming home with her.

Sansa laid her head on the bed and truly rested beside her husband for the first time the entire nightmare had started.

Her prayers had been answered; her husband was alive and he loved her, and her entire world shifted right way up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next
> 
> Jon recovers, we learn more about the other guys and he finally gets to go home


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon recovers and they head home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys
> 
> So we turn to some happier and more hopeful times for our couple. My goal was always to keep this as a short story to see if I could get the Jonsa vibe down!
> 
> I didn't want Jon to have PTSD without having enough time to do a topic such as that justice. 
> 
> So I hope you enjoy!

If Sansa had thought her husband was incredible before he was injured, watching Jon push to recover was nothing short of miraculous. She had been deeply concerned that the deaths of his men in his unit would make him pull away from her, but instead, the opposite appeared to have happened.

He leaned on his wife for nearly everything; whenever he was getting medical advice, when the first grief counsellor came by, and even when they had discussions with the physical therapist on getting his leg back to one hundred percent. Jon wanted Sansa by his side and she was happy to be there.

After Jon had woken up, on his own, he slept for fourteen hours straight, with Sansa by his side. She had no idea when he might wake again, and she wouldn't take the chance of not being there.

The next time he woke, it was much more pleasant. She was sipping a cup of tea, and his eyes fluttered open to land on her.

"Hi baby," she whispered to him, giving him a soft smile.

"So you weren't a dream," he said, a look of stunned awe on his face.

Sansa shook her head. "Nope. I've been here the entire time."

"How long?"

"Six days."

His eyes held hers, and Sansa saw he was bracing for the pain as if he knew something catastrophic had happened.

"My unit?"

Sansa leaned forward and took his hand. She'd been witness to enough horrible news being delivered in her lifetime, that she knew it was more painful to keep someone in suspense.

"Tormund is in the ICU as well. They had to amputate his leg below the knee."

Jon sucked in a pained breath.

"Sandor is in the burn unit. I was told that they'd allow me to go visit him in a few days, but he's still in critical condition and infection is a serious concern."

"How bad is he?" Jon choked out. He'd remembered something burning, and a person never forgot the smelled of charred flesh, but Jon hadn't realized it had been Sandor that had been the one on fire.

"Thirty percent of his body."

Jon closed his eyes as the tears leaked out, and Sansa said nothing, just stroking the back of his hand.

"And the others. Ed and Gendry?"

When Sansa said nothing, his eyes opened again, and she saw him start to struggle.

"Jon, no. You can't move. Your lung collapsed; you have broken ribs and had internal bleeding. And two gunshot wounds. You have to stay still."

"Fuck, San, they were like my brothers."

She let the tears come. "I know, baby. I know. Out of thirty of you, only three survived. I think that some people above you are in big trouble." Sansa had overhead the words' clusterfuck' and 'heads will fucking roll,' more times than she cared to admit while she’d been waiting for Jon to wake up.

"It was a fucking suicide mission from minute one, and we all fucking knew it," Jon muttered darkly, lost in his memories. That had been when Sansa had been most worried he'd retreat into himself. Surprisingly though, after a few minutes, he turned to her.

"You'll stay? With me? You'll help?"

Sansa felt the relief flood through her. "Oh gods, yes, Jon. I'm here. I'm on indefinite leave from the hospital. There is nowhere else I have to be. No timeline, no pressing need other than getting the three of you healthy again."

He gave her a little nod, and then a small sob escaped his lips. "I thought I was dead, San. I thought I'd never see you again."

Sansa felt him grasp her hand, and she squeezed tighter. She sat with Jon as he slipped back into an exhausted sleep, knowing that he'd be moved to a private room later that day.

Her parents spelled her off, her father spending hours with Jon when Sansa finally consented to sleep. Of course, once he was in his own room, she simply curled up in a chair and slept there unwilling to be apart from him.

A week after the accident happened, Sansa was given permission to visit Sandor. She and Jon had talked at length about what he must have gone through, facing fire to get him and Tormund to safely. It was an incredible tale of bravery and she owed Sandor everything.

"He's family, San," Jon said, unnecessarily.

"Of course, he is. He'll come home with us," Sansa said. There had been no more discussion about babies and what their future held, not right now. Now was time to heal, but Sandor’s place in their family was assured.

Sansa went through the rigorous procedure to be granted entry into the burn unit and choked back the tears when she saw Sandor on the soft bed, with the specialized bandages covering a third of his massive body. It seemed that the greatest damage had been to his arms, chest and leg on his left side.

"Feel you staring, little bird," his voice whispered, weakly. Sansa had never heard him sound so small.

"Hey, big guy," she said softly, taking a seat on his right and reaching for his hand.

"How's the hubby?"

"Good. Broken leg, some integral stuff. But good."

"And the Wildling?" he asked, using Tormund's nickname.

"Good. Amputated his right leg below the knee, but he's been upgraded to stable."

Sandor closed his eyes and sighed. "Good."

Sansa took his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you, Sandor. I'll never have the words…"

"Stop," he commanded her. "Doing my fucking job, Sansa."

She nodded, even though his eyes were closed. "You were. And now I'm doing mine. When you're out of here, you're coming home with Jon and me."

Sandor gave a weak snort. "Fucking think not."

"You are," Sansa said, her voice steel.

Sandor cracked an eye and looked at her. "So what? I can watch you two fuck all over your house?"

Sansa glowered at him. "We are your family, and you will be coming home with us, and that is final," Sansa said and got a rare smirk from the big man.

"We'll see," was all she said, and then she saw him shudder in pain. She slipped out, but not before thanking him again.

Sansa visited Sandor every day, noticing he too defied the odds with his recovery, although he was still isolated to keep him from catching an infection.

Two weeks after the incident, Tormund was finally moved into a room adjacent to Jon, and that seemed to buoy both their spirits. Sansa had witnessed how close the unit was, but seeing it first hand, again, was nothing short of remarkable. Tormund had been so grateful to survive that he'd taken the loss of his leg in stride. For now. The moment his children had been allowed to crawl all over him, nobody had a dry eye. They were two little red-haired hellions that loved their father.

"This is all that fucking matters, Snow," Tormund said, looking at Jon. Jon nodded. He couldn’t agree more and wanted a family with Sansa with an almost desperate need.

In addition to the physical healing, a military psychologist had come by. At first, Sansa had thought Jon might be resistant; he wasn't exactly known for being an open book when it came to discussing his feelings. But he must have seen a look of tentative hope on Sansa's face because he spent an hour with the man. Sansa had slipped out of the room to give them privacy, but when she went back in, Jon patted the bed beside him.

"Come here, babe," he said, and Sansa excitedly kicked off her shoes and carefully arranged herself to lie beside her husband. She put her head on his shoulder and inhaled his scent. There was something inherently Jon about it, even though he was lying in a hospital bed. When his arm cradled her closer, the dam in Sansa finally broke, and she sobbed into his chest, her entire body shaking as she allowed all the emotion from the past few weeks to pour out of her.

"Shah, love, I'm here," Jon murmured to her, his hand rubbing circles on her back.

"I thought I'd be a widow," she whispered raggedly and felt Jon's breath hitch.

There was nothing to say. He hadn't been the one that had fucked their mission, and he'd been open and honest about his career from the moment they'd met. But still. It was a risk all military personal took when they signed up.

"I know," he finally told her.

Sansa tilted her head, so her wet eyes met his. "But I'm proud of you, Jon. I'm proud of what you do. I just… gods, this was so close, you know?"

He could only nod. It had been as close as could be. But now, they were here, together. And they had the rest of their lives in front of them.

* * *

"Jon, for god sakes," Sansa said, exasperation lacing her every word. Her husband was pacing his small hospital room, driving her mad.

They'd been in Bravos for a month before Jon was finally given leave to come home. Sandor had to stay for another month or so, due to the burns, but even he'd been in better spirits. Sansa thought half the reason that they'd been released had been because of the shit that Tormund and Jon had gotten up to as they'd healed.

Jon was already in a walking cast and had been working with his physical therapist almost nonstop since he'd been allowed to move around. The psychologist he'd connected with also came by every couple of days, and Sansa and Jon spent some time together talking with the man.

"He's been through some shit, San," Jon told her quietly one night about his councillor. It was half the reason that Jon had connected so quickly with the man.

In the safe space, Sansa had been able to tell both Jon and the doctor what she had gone through when she'd learned about the incident, and Jon had openly wept, holding her. For the first time, Sansa saw some guilt in his eyes about his career choice and what she had been through.

"Don't do that Jon. I knew what I was signing up for, babe," she told him, shaking her head fiercely.

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, shaking a bit. "I know. Fuck, San, I love you so much. When shit went sideways, I knew it was bad. And all I could think was that I might not see you again, might not get to tell you I love you. Might not be able to give you a family."

They'd been raw and so emotionally vulnerable with each other which was what was needed for them to move forward. That night, as Sansa crawled into the hospital bed beside Jon, he finally raised the idea of a family again.

"I'm not sure what this all means; in regards to my deployments and stuff," he told her softly. "But I still want out. More now than ever. I want a chance at a family, San."

She'd leaned up and kissed him, gripping him tightly, and for the first time, desire flared between them. Jon smirked, and Sansa shook her head.

"How can you be horny when you're still in pain?"

"Have you seen my wife? She's hot as hell and all mine."

Sansa laughed at him. "I want a family as well. But," she said, taking a deep breath. "You need to heal. And we need to get things sorted with your service and Sandor." She gave him a look. "We might need a bigger house, sooner rather than later."

Jon's eyes lit. "Shit, I forgot to tell you," he said grinning now and looking way too happy since she brought up their finances. They weren’t broke but they were by no means wealthy. "I got an email from Elia Martell."

"Who?"

Jon turned serious. "She was my biological father's wife when he and my Mom…" Jon's eyes turned stormy. Sansa knew this was a difficult topic for him. "Anyways, she found out about me, and she told me that she doesn't think it was correct that I didn't get part of his estate."

Sansa's mouth dropped open. "Jon, that's incredible."

He nodded. "She seems nice. Apparently, I have two half-siblings as well, which is a trip. I haven't decided if I want to see them or not, but it's weird thinking there are people out there that I'm related to."

"Babe, that's wild." Sansa couldn't believe it. She saw the tentative hope in Jon's eyes, and she gave him an encouraging nod.

"Yeah, well, that wasn't all." The biggest grin she'd seen yet lit his features. "We're rich, babe."

Sansa laughed, thinking Jon was joking until she looked closer. Her brow furrowed. "Rich? What does that even mean?"

Jon tugged her closer and kissed her, sucking on the sensitive spot below her ear. "Good thing, I knew you liked me before I got my inheritance, baby."

Sansa giggled. "What are you talking about?"

"Elia said my share of my father's estate is just over twelve million dollars."

Sansa's mouth gaped open. "What?"

Jon nodded. "Yeah. It's wild. I got the email right before we went into the field, so I still haven't processed it, but Elia insists its mine."

"Jon, I don't even know what to say," Sansa said, genuinely gobsmacked. This changed so much in their life. They could buy a bigger house, and establish Jon's new business. Maybe Sansa could even stay home when they had children, which was a dream of hers. This gave them options. This gave them freedom.

Jon smiled softly at her and cradled her face when she told him all that. "I love how your first thought about the money is about our family, baby. You're so beautiful, San, you take my breath away."

She blushed but loved it when he got all intense and focused on her. That's when she knew she had all of Jon; moments like this. There was nothing quite like being the recipient of so much love and desire.

"I just love you so much," she told him, brushing her lips against his. Sansa ached for her husband, now, in a way that she hadn't let herself think about before but could now.

"Let's buy a big house baby, with some land, where we can have a bunch of kids and some dogs," Jon told her, able to clearly see the next phase of their life.

"We need a place for Sandor," she told him, giggling as his hand reached out and lightly stroked her breast.

"Gods, I've missed you," Jon muttered against her lips.

Sansa pushed him gently. "Sandor, babe."

He gave her a fake frown. "I'm kissing you, and you're thinking of my best friend. Want to tell me something, beautiful?"

Sansa laughingly shook her head. "He needs us, Jon. And, you two should start your company together, now that you have some seed money."

Sansa hadn't backed down from the idea that Sandor would come and live with them when he was finally released, and the three of them could be a family.

"Only you would call twelve million dollars seed money," Jon said, delighted by Sansa.

"Well, you haven't seen the house I want."

"Fair enough, my love."

Sansa snuggled down deeper into Jon's embrace; she knew they were days away from being released, and she was excited to go home.

"Love you, baby," Jon whispered to her.

"Love you," she told him, more grateful than ever that she had a chance to say those words to him.

* * *

Jon had a walking cast place on his leg and was reasonably mobile with it when he and Sansa went to visit Sandor for the last time before they were headed home to Wintertown. Jon had been in the military hospital for six weeks and was well enough not to require a hospital stay anymore.

While he'd started as a model patient, by the end, he was miserable, and Sansa knew it was due to being cooped up in the hospital and not in his own space. Tormund and Brienne were leaving a few days after them, and both couples promised to make an effort. Things were definitely on hold for Tormund, and he was looking at a full discharge from the military, whereas Jon's future was a little more uncertain currently.

Jon and Sansa had one last stop to make before boarding their flight home – Sandor.

He'd come a long way in six weeks and was now in a recovery unit, awaiting some skin grafts. Unlike when he'd had his face scarred as a child, the things they could do now were nothing short of miraculous.

"So, you're out?" he grunted at the two of them as they stood by the side of his bed, holding hands. Jon insisted on walking everywhere now, although he did use his crutches when he was too tired.

"We are," Jon said. He had spent hours with Sandor, talking at length about what had happened. Both knew that people were in serious trouble over the mission that had gone so catastrophically wrong, and while that didn't bring anyone back, at least it wasn't being swept under the rug.

Sansa had stepped out of those conversations, giving the best friends space.

"Good," Sandor grunted. "Didn't save your fucking ass just to see you miserable."

Jon shook his head and gave Sandor a grin. "We have some news."

Sandor gave them a suspicious look. "What?"

Sansa was almost bursting, and with a little indication from Jon she told Sandor all about Jon's inheritance and what that meant.

"It's a new start for all of us."

Sandor's face was blank, and both men watched as Sansa's grin faltered. "I mean because you're coming to stay with us when you're out of the hospital."

Sandor shook his head. "Don't think so, little bird. Not going to horn in on a married couple."

Sansa's spine straightened, and Jon rocked back on his heels, giving his friend a look that said he’d done it now.

"Sandor Clegane, you are NOT horning in. You are family; you are Jon's brother. And, I know the two of you cooked up some scheme after military life. Do you think I'm going to let my husband go into business by himself? Especially a potentially dangerous one?"

"Hey babe," Jon said, tickling Sansa's side. "I am a fucking SEAL, San. Not exactly useless here."

Sansa's huffed out an exasperated breath and stomped her foot and looked at both men; two highly decorated navy SEALs who had more kills between the two of them than she ever wanted to know. She put her hands on her hips and glared at both of them.

"Listen to me, both of you. Sandor Clegane, you will come to Wintertown because we are going to buy a house with a second cottage on it for you. You are family, and you will not be alone. I might even get you a dog, so you can quit moping about. And Jon, you will work with your friend to establish your new business because, while yes, you are perfectly capable of many things, having someone else look out for you, help you, work with you, is what you have dreamed of."

Both men nodded at her.

"So, no more arguments. I haven't cried buckets of tears, lost countless hours of sleep and paced these hallways to have the two of you cock up all our plans!"

Both Sandor and Jon snickered at her use of the word cock, and she huffed at them until Jon drew her into his arms.

"Babe, you're right," Jon said, kissing her on the lips. She reluctantly gave in, before she pushed him back a bit and looked at Sandor.

"And you? Going to be a lone wolf still?"

Sandor shook his head, giving her a smirk. "Fuck no, little bird. I'll do what you say."

Sansa kissed Sandor on his cheek, the scarred one and squeezed his hand. "We'll see you soon. Get better."

He gave her a tight nod, and she saw all he couldn't express in his stormy grey eyes. Sansa slipped out of the room to provide them with privacy.

Jon took a seat and looked at the man who had saved his life even with the risk of fire.

"I don't have words enough to thank you," Jon started to say.

"Fuck, Snow. Don't do this. Told you I'd save your ass and get you home to your pretty wife."

Jon smiled softly. "You did."

They were quiet for a time.

"You had no idea about the money, huh?" Sandor said.

"Not at all." Jon leaned forward. "Sansa wasn't wrong. I need you, as much in civilian life as I did in the unit, Sandor. I can't run an entire company all on my own. Are you truly in?"

Sandor had nothing else. No family he cared even to acknowledge, no wife, no girlfriend, no cat, no dog. Not even a fish. What he had was the military. And Jon.

He gave him a slow nod. "Fuck yeah, I'm in. You'll fucking go soft if I'm not there looking over your shoulder. Besides, you lure them in with your pretty fucking face, and I'm the one that does the real work."

Jon threw his head back and laughed. Then he sobered. "I'm thinking of going to Bear Island when I'm healed, to visit Aly. Make sure she's set up and shit."

Sandor held Jon's eyes. He was a good man, Jon Snow. "What does your wife think of that?"

Jon smiled. "She loved the idea. Same with Tormund and Brienne. I thought about asking him to move to Wintertown and be part of the company as well. Not sure how well he'll manage his farm, up North there."

Sandor grunted. It made sense, and with three little kids, there was a definite concern that Tormund might be overwhelmed adjusting to all the changes in his life. But both men knew how much he loved the true North as he called it.

"All you can do is try. I won't stand in your way."

Jon rose to his feet, grabbing his crutches. "You know if you try to disappear, my wife will hunt you down, right?"

Sandor snorted. "She's fucking way scarier than you."

Jon levelled a look at Sandor.

"Fuck sakes, I know. Go and find me a beautiful home, Snow. I'll be there when they let me out of this hellhole."

Satisfied with that, he finally left Sandor's room, hoping that his friend didn't pull a Houdini when it came time to leave the hospital.

Waiting for him in the hallway was his wife, who glanced up from her phone. She had a look in her eye, of excitement and hope, and Jon asked what she had been doing.

She blushed, which he thought was adorable, and then mumbled, "Looking at houses."

Jon leaned down to brush a kiss along her neck, loving how she shivered. He couldn't fucking wait to be home, in their own bed so he could make love to her. It had been far too long, and he ached he missed her so much.

"Show me what you’re looking at, love," he commanded gently, and she turned her phone so that he could see.

Jon loved the theme she was going for, something on a lake, but she just wasn't dreaming big enough. Jon had found a property he'd fallen in love with. It was a massive thing, almost $6 million but private and had room for them to grow.

"What about this?" he said, giving her his phone.

He loved watching his wife's mouth drop open. "Oh my god, Jon. That's incredible. Are you sure? It's so much!"

He brushed a long red lock of hair away from her cheek. "Baby, we're rich. Of course, I'm sure. Six bedrooms, San. Better get used to lots of little feet."

The look on his wife's face was something that Jon lived for. "My father was a useless man, San. He left my mother broken-hearted and alone for my entire life. But we have a chance here, to build something for our family and I want to take it. Dream big with me, baby."

Sansa threw her arms around Jon's neck and pulled him close. "You are my whole world, Jon Snow, and I can't wait to fill our home with children."

"And Sandor."

She laughed. "And Sandor."

Jon squeezed her butt and then kissed her passionately. "I can't wait to get home to make love to you, Sansa." Sansa let out a little moan and pressed closer to Jon.

The desire in her eyes made his dick hard, and she giggled as she felt him grow, groping him in the hallway hospital. "We're so bad," she whispered, and Jon grunted as her hand squeezed him again.

"Fuck, let's go say our goodbyes to Tormund and Brienne and then we've got a plane to catch." Sansa laughed as Jon tried to adjust himself and hobbled with his crutch down the hallway.

"You're a wicked woman, Sansa Snow," he told her, and she winked at him.

Tormund and Brienne looked a bit ragged as was to be expected. Brienne's father had rented them a small, short term apartment because of the children, and both Sansa and Jon could see that the hospital time was wearing on them.

"When do you get to leave?" Jon asked his friend.

Tormund growled and looked to Brienne. "A week, Jon. They are worried about how hard he is pushing himself." Brienne gave her husband a pointed look, and the man at least had the wherewithal to look slightly abashed. Brienne was clearly not amused.

"Have you given any thought to afterwards?" Sansa asked her friend gently. "Will the farm be too much?"

"Why?" Tormund barked out. Jon rested a hand on his friend's good leg.

"There's a place for you in Wintertown if you're interested. Sandor and I are looking into starting our own company."

Tormund crossed his arm. "I don't want to fucking live in the South, Snow."

"It's hardly the south, Tormund. In fact, most people think of Wintertown as the North."

"Most people are fucking stupid."

Jon shook his head. "Fine, you stubborn goat, have it your way. But know there is a place for you with us if you're interested."

Brienne and Sansa hugged, having grown quite close in the time that their husbands had been in the hospital, and promised the keep in touch. Sansa wondered how they might handle things, with Tormund's adaptation to his prosthetic leg, along with his sheer stubbornness, and vowed to be there for Brienne as much as she could.

With that, they gathered their belongings and signed Jon's discharge papers. He had appointments in a few weeks to discuss his future with the military, but both hoped it was winding down. This call had been too close, even for Jon. Jon thanked those that had saved his life and jokingly said he hoped never to see them again. His cast came off next week in Wintertown, and he'd already been assigned both a physical therapist to help him regain his full mobility and a psychologist. Both Sansa and Jon had agreed to continue to see someone together as a couple, along with separately until they navigated their new normal and dealt with this incident. 

When they finally stepped out into the late spring morning, Jon inhaled deeply and looked at his wife. His incredible, beautiful, caring, loving wife.

"I have no idea how I would have survived without you here," he told her, the brutal honestly right there on his strikingly handsome face.

"Jon," Sansa said, shaking her head. "You're the strongest person I know."

Jon cupped her face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "Only because of you love. Let's go home, Mrs. Snow."

Her answering grin was wide and fierce. "I'd love that, Mr. Snow."

Linking hands, they called a cab. Neither one looked back to the hospital where so much had happened. Their lives, the future, was forward. And it had never looked brighter.

* * *

_ Three Weeks Later  _

Sansa laughed as her husband, sweaty and dripping from his most recent run, entered their tiny kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

"I'm not sure this is what the PT meant when they said you could start to run again," she told him, eyeing him critically, as a medical professional. He just had to push himself.

They'd been in Wintertown for three weeks, and things were slowly getting sorted. They'd fit themselves back together in their home seamlessly as they always did after one of Jon's deployments. They had revelled in the fact that they were together again. Jon was still experiencing some pain, so while things had been good, they weren't perfect. They'd only made love twice, and both times had been slow and gentle, both of them needing to reconnect, but knowing they couldn’t push it any further.

True to the predictions, Jon's cast had come off two weeks ago, and he worked daily to regain his strength. The man was a marvel and had been given the go-ahead to start to run, lightly, again. Of course, Jon being Jon, that meant he'd gone for two miles today.

Jon sucked down water, turning back to face his wife, who was looking through yet another endless set of listings that their realtor had sent them. They were anxious to get settled, but so far, the perfect property had eluded them. Even the one that Jon had originally found hadn’t been what they’d been looking for. Jon had thought that having so much money would make this easier, not harder, but clearly, he'd been incorrect. They didn’t want to settle and kept pushing to find a home that was correct for them.

He sauntered over to her, noting the flare of desire in her eyes as she checked him out. His cock responded in turn to her arousal. His ribs were almost fully healed, and his other wounds and contusion now just faded bruises and red scars.

Jon dropped a kiss to Sansa's neck, licking her while pulling her close and cupping a breast.

"Baby, I'm only doing what I'm allowed," he murmured, his dick hard as a rock. Gods, he wanted to fuck his wife. He'd been so good, and so careful, but now, _now_ he physically felt more like his old self. And he wanted her, wet and wild and screaming his name. She hadn't gone back on birth control, and the thought of filling her with his seed made him so fucking horny.

She moaned and arched her perky ass backed into his dick, and he knew he had her.

"Jon," she moaned as he continued to suck on her neck. He loved how her pale skin showed even the slightest marks and scrapes his trim beard left along her elegant neck. "It's mid-morning and we have a house appointment in," Sansa glanced at the clock, "Forty-five minutes. And you have to shower."

"More than enough time," he said, picking her up and striding down the hall.

She laughed as he carried her, and with her pussy so close to his nose, he could smell her desire, and it turned him on even more. It had been forever since he'd been down on his wife, worshiping her, and nothing was going to stop him. He'd make her come against his tongue, and then he'd sink so deep inside her that she wouldn't know where one of them started and the other ended.

He dropped Sansa on the bed, and looked at her, eyes smouldering.

"Strip," he ordered.

Thank fuck she didn't argue, Jon thought. She just pulled off her clothing in rapid succession as he dropped his sweaty clothes to the floor before stalking over to her and captured her lips, carding his hands through her hair and pinning his mouth to hers.

“You are mine, Sansa. Fuck, baby, you're all mine. Now spread those pretty thighs, baby. I need your pussy," he told her, loving how she still blushed a bit at his dirty talk but scrambled to comply, clearly wanting him as much as he wanted her. Jon dropped to his knees and spread her legs, holding her open so he could gaze at her.

"Fuck, I've missed this," he muttered before he swiped his tongue through her already swollen folds, lapping down her cream. "So fucking wet, Sansa. That's a good girl," he crooned as her hips arched up, seeking more from him. Jon laved her pussy, eating her out, nibbling at her clit until she was bucking, and he sunk two fingers inside her. Jon lapped at her, loving her salty musk and how damn good she tasted. It was a feast for his senses and one he’d sorely missed.

"Come on me, baby," he commanded and rubbed her nub with the pad of his thumb as relentlessly drove his tongue into her again and again. She screamed his name, clamping her thighs down around his head, pinning him to her, and Jon chuckled as she quivered in the aftermath of her first orgasm. He rose up, pressed his lips to hers as he slammed his cock inside, her legs automatically coming up to wrap around him.

_Fuck she was so tight_, he thought, never knowing anything could feel as good as being inside his wife.

"Hold on, baby, going to fuck you hard," he whispered in her ear, and she moaned as her eyes fluttered up to meet his.

"Oh gods, Jon, you feel so good," she panted, a little dazed still from her first orgasm as he pounded her into the mattress.

"Yeah?"

"God yeah," she said, as he hit that spot in her that only his thick, long cock could. She grabbed his ass and forced him deeper, clawing at his butt and writhing under him, as wild as he was. Jon leaned down and sucked hard on her neck, knowing he was marking her but not caring, as he bit her gently, and she yelled for more.

“More, more, more,” she cried into his ear, aching for them to come together.

"I'm going to come in you so deep that I coat your womb with my seed, baby," he whispered wickedly to her and felt her tighten like a velvet glove around him. "You like that, huh, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes," she panted. "Give it all to me, Jon. Fill me up," she said, driving him wild.

"Fuck, San, you're so fucking wet, and you feel so good. I dreamed of your sweet pussy when I was away from you," he told her, and she moaned again as he picked up his pace, slamming into her, again and again, until he felt her walls start to flutter.

"I'm so close," she cried out, and Jon grunted and snaked a hand down in-between the slicked up bodies to rub at her clit.

"Come, San. Bring us over, baby," he chanted in her ear and watched as she splintered apart beneath him, crying out his name again, as he pumped twice more and shot jet after jet of hot semen deep inside her. He went to roll off, but she pulled him down, keeping his weight on top of her.

"No, stay, baby," she said, licking at his neck. Jon turned and capture her lips in a gentle kiss, still semi-hard inside her, although they were both a complete mess.

"Baby making is intense," he said with a wry grin, as Sansa brushed back a curl from his forehead, loving his long hair.

"You're so handsome, husband of mine."

He laughed. "That's my line, beautiful wife."

Her smile was everything. This woman that he loved so deeply, so thoroughly. She was his in every sense of the word, and he was so grateful to be here, in their home, together, alive and mostly recovered.

Jon stilled for a moment, looking deep in her eyes. "I love you so much, Sansa. There aren't even words for what I feel for you."

She nodded, sniffling a bit. "I know, Jon. I know." The crazy part was, Jon knew she did. He'd never once, not since the moment they'd met, doubted her feelings for him.

"What time do we have to go?"

Sansa laughed and glanced at the clock. "Ummm, in fifteen minutes."

"My dick doesn't want to leave you. He's quite happy where he is," Jon said, twisting his hips a bit, and growing harder by the moment.

"Shower?" Sansa said, blue eyes dancing.

Jon's eye lit with excitement. "Oh yeah, shower. I can get you dirty again before we get clean."

“Jon!”

Jon laughed rolled off her and as Sansa reached for her phone.

"Let me grab my phone and tell the realtor we'll be late."

"How much is this one we’re looking at today?" Jon asked, padding naked around their room. Any muscle he'd lost in the past two months, he was quickly regaining, and the slightly leaner look had him even more cut than before. Sansa all but panted when he was naked like this, so comfortable in his skin. Her husband was freaking hot, and she shamelessly ogled him.

When she didn't answer, and Jon caught her staring at him, he smirked. He dragged her off the bed and towards the shower. He knew their realtor would wait. The properties they were looking at were in the millions; she could cater to them for the commission she'd get when she finally found them the perfect place.

"You're drooling love," Jon told her as he turned on the water.

Sansa gave a little snort. "You know what it does to me to see you like this." She gestured to his body, and Jon smirked.

"Yeah, I do."

Rolling her eyes at him, she sailed by him and into the shower, sticking out her tongue.

"Don't do that unless you're prepared to use it," he warned her with a growl, his dick going fully hard when she giggled.

_Fuck_, Jon thought. _Was there any better sight and sound than his wife happy and sated, freshly fucked and looking at him like he was a hero?_

He knew there wasn't, and joined her in the small shower, fitting themselves so he could wash her hair, and she could soap him up. He could have her again; Sansa was always ready for him, but he liked the little buzz of sexual tension between the two of them.

Besides, she was only back at the hospital part-time, and they had plenty of time to be together later this afternoon when they returned from viewing this property. He wasn’t an animal; he could wait.

He turned her as he worked the conditioner into her long hair.

"Love you, baby," he whispered in her ear.

She sighed and cuddled closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. "Love you, Jon."

A new house would come; Jon knew they'd find the perfect one. Sandor was close to being released, and Jon had spent countless hours with Robb and Ned discussing business plans. For now, at this moment, his life was one to be grateful for. His wife was naked and wet, and in his arms, they were trying for a baby, and he had no money concerns.

He continued to grieve the loss of Ed and Gendry. He mourned them deeply but did so by talking with Sansa and his military-appointed shrink. And he was still slightly unsure how well he'd adjust to civilian life, but day by day, he was gaining a clearer picture. Mostly he was still worried about Sandor and Tormund, both of whom had far more significant injuries than him.

But when he got a bit too lost in his own head, his wife was there. The nightmares that had plagued him in the hospital in Bravos were almost nonexistent now, and he was getting his strength back more and more each day.

In the shower, Jon laid a gentle hand on Sansa's slim stomach, and sent a little prayer out to the universe, to bless them with a child that they both wanted. It was the missing piece right now in their marriage, and even though they'd just started trying, Jon hoped it would happen sooner rather than later for them.

"I'm so fucking glad to be home," Jon muttered, almost to himself more than anything, only realizing when his wife gave a little sob, that he'd spoken out loud.

"Gods, I am so glad you're home as well, Jon," she said, her bright eyes meeting his.

"Together, San. You and me, baby. This life, whatever it throws at us, I'll be by your side."

She gave a jerky nod. "Always, Jon. I'm yours."

Overwhelming need gripped him as he gazed at her; need and the desire to reassure himself that she was his in every way that counted.

"Fucking right you are," he said, picking her up and sliding her down his hard cock, needing this connection with her. "Hold on baby," he told her as he ground into her, again and again against the shower wall as she clung to him, their eyes never leaving one another, until finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sansa fluttered around him.

"I'm going to come," she told him, and his answer was a grunt until she began to thrash and wail.

"Fuck, every day, San, from here on out, I'm going to make you cry out my name, just like this baby," he promised her.

Her answer was to scream out his name and clutch so tightly around him she sucked his dick deep inside her until he was flooding her again with his come. They panted into one another as they came down from their highs, and Sansa giggled again.

"We're so late, and I love this house, Jon."

Jon grinned. "If it's for us, it'll keep baby, and it'll keep."

"Promise?"

Jon nodded solemnly. "I promise. I'm going to give you everything you've ever dreamed of Sansa. Right now is the beginning of the rest of our lives."

She grinned. "Then dry that magnificent ass off, Jon Snow, and let's go look at my dream house."

She slipped by him so he could only grin as he shut the water off, content to follow her anywhere she led them in this life. He'd done his duty to his country and to his region. He was proud of his service and who he was, but now a new chapter in his life was starting, and Jon Snow was more ready for it than he had been for anything else in his life. He was infinitely in a position to make all his wife's dreams come true, and that, in Jon's mind, made everything he'd been through, all the pain, all the suffering, all the heartache worth it in the end.

When they'd dried and dressed, Jon held out his hand, and he palmed the keys to the new Ranger Rover he'd bought.

"Ready babe?"

Her answering smile was everything. Sansa almost glowed, she was so happy.

"I am so ready."

"Then let's go see your dream house, baby."

She took his hand and keyed the address into the navigation system, knowing this was it.

They'd been through hell and made it back, and now, this was their rainbow after the storm. And while Sansa knew that there would be other challenges, other obstacles, other storms, this had been a big test. Somehow, against all the odds, they'd survived, and now they had their turn to thrive. And she thoroughly planned on making the very most of this second chance she'd been given with the love of her life.

“I’m ready, Jon,” Sansa told him, knowing that the words were one hundred percent true. She was ready for it all; a husband that was home, babies, friendship and the rest of their lives to start, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go~ all Jonsa goodness. Babies, house, friends, family!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All
> 
> Meant to have this finished way sooner!! Got sick and was travelling but happy Galentines day everyone!!!
> 
> Enjoy it's super sweet!!
> 
> T

Sansa smiled softly as Jon placed the last box that they had packed into the moving truck, which was scheduled to take all their possessions to their new home in an hour. 

It had been a crazy six weeks, closing on a house that they'd both fallen in love with. It had been the one they'd been dreadfully late to view, that morning that Jon couldn't get enough of her, and Sansa was also fairly positive that was the morning that Jon had gotten her pregnant. 

She'd taken a test this morning, knowing that it was serendipitous: new home, new baby, a fresh start. Both her and Jon had wept when the two pink lines appeared, and he'd held her gently, resting his hand on her stomach as they both thought of what this meant for their lives. 

"Sansa, I can't even," Jon said, choked up. The words had just been stuck, and since Sansa felt the same way, she knew exactly what he was going through. 

It had been just over four months since that awful mission in Essos, and while Jon was fully healed physically, he still struggled with the deaths of Gendry and Ed. 

He'd flown back to Braavos once, to connect with Sandor. Jon remarked that the skin grafts were incredible. Sandor had taken one look at the house they'd purchased and made some rude comment, but had committed to coming and living with them. Sansa knew what had convinced him was the separate guest house that would be all his. 

As for the rest of the house, it was something out of a dream. Over six thousand square feet, with high vaulted ceilings, six bedrooms and five bathrooms, it had everything both Jon and Sansa had ever wanted. It was light and airy, with huge windows, sat on an acre of prime lakefront property, had a kitchen to die for and enough room for them to grow both their personal and professional lives. They'd fallen in love with it immediately, Jon silencing her with a kiss when she protested it was too much. 

"This is the rainbow, baby," he'd told her, sincerity blazing in his grey eyes, and she'd nodded. 

Jon hadn't been discharged from the military yet; he was still doing administrative tasks, and Sansa thought it gave him a bit of purpose until Sandor was free to help him work on the business end of things. 

Now, as Jon told the movers that was the last of their items, Sansa watched her handsome husband walk back towards her, resting a hand on her stomach as he leaned down to kiss her. The sun was shining, and it was the perfect day to move. They clasped hands and took one last walk through their little starter house. Sansa had so many good memories from here, and she was glad for their humble beginning. 

"I loved starting our life here," Jon said, voice thick as if he'd read her mind. Sansa glanced at him, seeing the war of emotions on his face. "It got me through a lot of long days and nights, being away from you, thinking about you here," he told her. 

It wasn't something he'd ever shared with her before. The burden he'd carried had been enormous, and she was so thankful he was here, by her side. 

"You gave me my dreams, Jon," Sansa told him. Even if the money had never come from Elia Martell, Sansa was still living the life she had wanted. She was deeply loved by a man who had her entire heart, and now, she was going to be a Mom. 

They did one last run through the house and then closed and locked the front door. Sansa pressed her hand to it and whispered that she hoped it would be as good to the next family as it was to theirs. Then together, they got in Jon's Rover and drove to their new home, where an entire world of opportunities awaited them. 

* * *

"Sandor for god sakes will you stop hovering, I'm fine," Sansa said from the couch, where she lay with a bucket on her stomach and a cold cloth on her forehead. 

It had been a month since they'd moved in, and two weeks since Sandor had finally arrived, and Sansa's pregnancy was kicking her butt. She was sick as a dog and on medical leave from her nursing job because she could barely function with her all day pregnancy sickness. 

Jon was still going in each day and doing desk work for the Navy, so Sandor had taken it upon himself to be a self-appointed 'Sansa watcher.' 

It would have been adorable if it weren't so annoying for him to watch her throw up several times a day. 

"Jon said to watch out for you," he grunted, lowering himself on to a loveseat in their great room. While Sandor loved the guest house that was part of the property, he'd taken to spending more and more time in the main house. It delighted Sansa that he hadn't turned into a hermit, and she usually welcomed his presence, but this was bordering on ridiculous. 

She cracked an eye and stared at him. "And what are you going to do? I'm pregnant, not sick. Women do this all the time." 

He grunted again, and she saw him shift, a little wince of pain. She wanted to ask if he were alright but bit her lip. She'd learned he was the most sensitive about his still healing skin grafts and injuries. Jon and Sandor spent hours together, and when he was in the mood, Jon shared some of what they talked about. Other topics were off-limits to her, and she understood that, in a way that most military spouses did. There were just some things Jon couldn’t or wouldn’t share with her. 

She and Jon had continued with counselling, although now they had scaled it back. Jon's nightmares were few and far between, and other than now healed scars on his body, one would never know what he'd been through. 

The move to their new home had been seamless, and they'd entertained her family often. The pool was a hit with Rickon and Arya, as well as Robb's eldest, who was a daredevil. Those moments, when everyone was around, when her house was full and loud and messy, were the happiest for Sansa. 

Sometimes she forgot that Jon was home permanently now, and she'd find herself getting melancholy thinking about him leaving again before she would remember that he would never have to leave again. Perhaps days here and there for work, but for the most part, his life was now settled and in the North with her. 

They'd christened every room in their massive house the first two weeks they’d been there. Sansa had poured over online websites and scoured local stores to decorate it to her liking. Jon mostly went along with her choices, although she'd forced him to pick out his furniture for his office and his man cave. 

Robb was over all the time, and Sansa half wondered if her brother might jump ship and come aboard Jon and Sandor's new security firm. All three men got along well, and Robb had hugged Sandor hard and thanked him for what he'd done, saving Jon. Sansa had seen Sandor's eyes become suspiciously misty when that had happened. 

"Can I turn on the TV?" Sandor asked, rousing her from her musings. "Ellen's about to come on," he muttered and then blushed. 

"Ohhhhh, yes! I think she has the Jonas brothers on today and their wives. They are all so gorgeous!" 

Sandor snorted and then flicked the TV on, both of them lost in their show when Jon wandered in. 

He took in the scene, smirking and shaking his head. Who knew that his badass SEAL teammate was a sucker for daytime TV? 

Sandor met Jon's eyes and then pressed a finger to his lips and pointed down at Sansa. Jon peeked over and saw that she was fast asleep on the couch, snoring lightly. 

"She just went out," Sandor said. 

Jon nodded and brushed her hair back from her cheek. This pregnancy was killing her, and he wished there was more he could do to make her feel better. He knew that Sandor was driving her mad with his hovering, but it made Jon feel better. 

Sandor pushed to his feet, wincing a bit, and Jon's eyebrows rose as they went to the kitchen, each grabbing a bottle of water. 

"How was the farm?" Sandor asked, and Jon shrugged. 

"A few more weeks, then I'm done. Feels fucking weird, to be honest." 

"But good, right?" Sandor asked, a bit worried. He had already been honourably discharged and was just waiting for Jon to be able to commit full time to their business. 

"Yeah, good. I knew what it did to her when I was deployed. Now with a baby? Fuck, man, I couldn't even imagine." 

"Yeah, it's good you're home for good," Sandor agreed, both of them looking back into the Great Room where Sansa napped. 

"How are you feeling?" Jon asked, sipping more water. 

"Good. Seeing the PT next week. Might be able to start back in the gym." 

One of the things that had sold Jon on this house was the state of the art gym that was on the lower level. They might be out of the military now, but both men would always be dedicated to working out. It was ingrained in them, a part of their daily lives, and something they looked forward to. 

"Yeah? That'd be awesome, man. Can't wait to kick your ass," Jon said, grinning like a maniac. 

They both knew it was only because of how badly Sandor had been injured that Jon even stood a chance at beating him. At anything. Sandor was a huge, a built machine of mass and muscle. And he had a surprisingly high level of endurance that Jon had discovered when the big man beat him time and again on their daily runs in the Essosi desert. 

"You fucking wish Snow," Sandor muttered and then took his ass back to the couch to finish his show. Sandor didn’t miss Ellen for anyone these days; not even Jon Snow. 

* * *

"I just don't know if we should find out. I mean, it's like the biggest surprise of your life, right, not knowing. But on the other hand, if we did know, wouldn't that make setting up the nursery easier? And shopping for clothes?" 

Jon grinned at his wife, reaching out to take her hand. "First, San. Breath." 

She stuck her tongue out at him. 

"And second, it's your call, babe. You're the one growing the baby, babe." 

"So cheesy, Jon." 

His answering grin was everything. 

Sansa was just past four months pregnant and gone was any sickness. She had rebounded in the second trimester full of energy, excitement and hornier than ever. Not that Jon was complaining. At all. His wife wanted him all the fucking time, and it was awesome. He'd never had so much sex in his entire life, and he loved being with her. 

Now though, her brain and her mouth were going a million miles an hour, and while it was adorable, Jon didn't want Sansa to get herself too worked up. 

She was worrying her lip, and he saw her gazing out the window as the streets of Wintertown rolled by. 

Jon loved that he was around for all these significant milestones in her pregnancy. He had started to look at what happened in Essos not as a blessing so much, but as a second chance to have this time with his wife. He'd finally been handed his honourable discharge papers two weeks ago and was officially a civilian. Had he still be in the military, he'd most likely be missing huge chunks of this pregnancy. 

"I think I want to know. I mean, I think I need to know, Jon. So I can prepare," she said, turning to him. 

"Awesome babe." 

"Do you care?" she asked suddenly, and he shook his head. 

"Nope. Not at all." 

Her nose wrinkled up adorably. "Seriously? You don't want a little mini Jon that's into guns and war and sports." 

He laughed, and the richness of it filled the SUV. "I'd just as soon love to have a daughter that's into dresses and tea parties and barbies." 

Sansa sighed. "Knowing my luck, my daughter will be like Arya." 

Jon had nothing to say to any of it. He knew they were blessed, and he honestly just wanted a healthy baby. 

When Sansa was on the examining table, after their doctor had taken all her measurements and blood pressure, discussed how she was feeling, she asked the million-dollar question. 

"So, are we finding out what we are having? I just need to know before I start the scan." 

Jon felt his wife sneak her hand into his and gave him a soft smile. "Yes, if we can." 

The doctor smiled warmly at them. "Alright then, Mr. and Mrs. Snow. Let's find out!" 

It never failed almost to bring Jon to his knees when the soft whoosh of the baby's heartbeat filled the room, and he looked at the monitor in awe as the baby floated around inside Sansa. He felt the tears sting his eyes as their doctor did all the measurements. 

"Baby is perfectly healthy and developing right on schedule," she said, moving the wand, pressing harder into Sansa's stomach. She paused and clicked a few buttons. "Are you sure you want to know?" 

"Yes," Sansa said, glancing at Jon how could only nod. 

"Congrats! It's a girl." 

Both Sansa and Jon looked stunned until big fat tears started running down Sansa's cheeks. "Oh my god! I thought your super-soldier sperm would only give me boys!!!!" she wailed happily, clearly thrilled to be having a daughter. 

Jon laughed and pressed his lips to Sansa's as the doctor cleaned up her stomach from the ultrasound gel. 

"A girl, San," Jon said reverently, kissing her stomach when it was clean. "Hi, baby girl," he whispered, now that the doctor had left them alone. 

"Jon," Sansa whispered, so overcome at the moment that she had no other words. For his part, neither did Jon. It was incredible. He was going to be a father, and he was having a daughter. 

* * *

Sandor eyed the Great Room in their house, wondering where in the fuck they might find space for all the things that the women in Sansa's life deemed she needed during her pre-baby baby shower. The entire day had been filled with estrogen, and he and Jon, along with Robb, Ned, Bran and Rickon, had escaped to his place. 

Even in a house that was over 6,000 square feet, there was more baby shit than Sandor had ever seen. It was like a toy store had puked over Jon and Sansa's house, and the little bird was happily chirping in the middle of it all, talking to Jon about all the shit she got. 

It had been utterly fascinating to Sandor to watch a woman grow a baby. He figured it was as close as he’d ever get to it, being the honorary Uncle to their kid since he hadn't been on a date in over a year. 

Sansa's good friend Jeyne had been around the house a lot lately. She worked with Sansa at the hospital, although Sansa had been off work now for a couple of weeks Jeyne still came by almost daily. Sansa was due in ten days and was in full nest mode. 

"It's crazy, huh," Jeyne said, shaking her head at all the stuff, looking at Sansa and Jon who were more in love than ever. 

"What?" 

Jeyne smiled at him. For some reason, his gruffness didn't scare her away, and Sandor often found himself paired off with her or talking with her whenever she was at the house. He had to admit, it was nice, although there was no way he'd make a move. If he thought it had been impossible to find a woman before, with his face, no fucking way would he get one now that half his body was a fucked up mess. 

"That Sansa and Jon are going to be parents," Jeyne said, looking at her best friend who was resting a hand on her beach ball of a stomach, while somehow kissing Jon. 

Sandor had made a mistake once, just ONCE of asking Jon if you could still sleep with a pregnant woman and learned more than he'd ever wanted to know on THAT subject, thank you very much. 

Sandor grunted, and Jeyne put a hand on his arm. "Hey, you're ok with this, right?" 

Sandor's initial response was to bark back something rude at Jeyne and question what she meant, but he took a moment and saw that there was only kindness in her eyes so he relaxed. 

"Yeah, I'm ok with it. They deserve it." 

"So do you, you know. I've seen you with Sansa. You'll make a great husband one day, Sandor." 

He snorted and shook his head. "Fucking think not. No one would even look at me that way." 

Jeyne's eyes widened, and her mouth popped open. "You’re kidding, right? You're not serious?"

Sandor scowled. "Of course, I'm serious. Look at me." 

Jeyne stepped back and eyed him up, and Sandor's face warmed. She was eye-fucking him, looking at him as if he were… handsome or attractive. And that she wanted him. He had no idea how he'd stepped into this landmine. 

"Trust me - I've looked Sandor. For months. And I've made myself available to you over and over and over again. You just never saw me," she said, shaking her head and turning away from him. 

Sandor's mind raced. Jeyne had been looking at him? She wanted something… from him? 

"Wait," he called, and she turned back, hope and a bit of unease in her eyes. Sandor shuffled his feet awkwardly. 

"Fuck, Jeyne, look at me,” he said again. 

"I have been. I don’t see anything to scare me away.” 

"My face is fucked up." 

She shrugged. "Part of it. But I hardly notice it. And the part that isn't is quite handsome. And let's not kid ourselves, Sandor. You have to have one of the best bodies in the North." She licked her lips then, and suddenly, this didn't seem quite so awful. Sandor threw his head back and laughed. 

"Yeah, you think so?" 

"I'd sure like to find out," Jeyne muttered, and Sandor made a split decision. He grabbed her hand and started walking to the door. 

"Hey, where are you going?" Jon called, holding up some contraption that looked like a baby swing. "I thought you said you'd help." 

"Change of plans, Snow. Do it yourself. I'm taking Jeyne to dinner," Sandor said, earning a delighted squeal from Jeyne and a holler of glee from Sansa. 

“Use protection," Sansa called as Sandor opened the door. "Or else all this will be yours in nine months! I love you guys. HAVE FUN!" 

"Not my mother, little bird!" Sandor called back and then finally got them out the door. 

He glanced at Jeyne. "So, you want to go to dinner?" 

"Bet your ass I do," Jeyne said and then she threw her arms around him and kissed him hard. Sandor's cock roared to life as he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her against his body. 

"Careful, or I'll just eat you for dinner," he growled in her ear, and her pretty laugh had him aching. 

She pulled back slightly and smiled coquettishly. "Maybe for dessert." And then she grabbed his hand and dragged him to his big SUV. "You owe me at least one meal out, big guy. And then you can have your way with me." 

Still stunned at the turn of events, Sandor let himself be led, and as he drove away from Sansa and Jon's house, he was whistling, realizing for the first time in what felt like forever, he was truly happy. 

* * *

Jon was speechless as he sat in the hospital chair, holding his daughter. Sansa was dozing in and out, having spent the past several hours labouring to bring Genny Snow into the world. They'd agreed upon the name, to honour Gendry, and the moment Sansa had suggested it, they'd both known it had been the one. 

Now she was here, and she was impossibly tiny in his hands, her bright red hair marking her as Sansa's daughter. Jon hadn't understood how a heart could expand to include one more person inside it, but from her first cry, it had. He knew he would do anything to protect her and keep her safe. 

"I love you, Genny," he told his daughter, kissing her cheek and watching as she yawned. She was utterly fascinating, and Jon felt like he could watch her for hours. 

He glanced at his wife, who opened her eyes and smiled at him. Jon had been through some of the most gruelling shit known to man. He'd passed SEAL training and BUD/S and survived mission after mission in harsh climates. And yet, watching his wife battle to bring a baby into the world humbled him. 

"You're amazing," he told her, voice gruff and low. He knew his words were wholly inadequate, but he meant every one of them. 

"She's pretty spectacular, isn't she," Sansa said, smiling at them. 

Soon enough, the masses would be here, and she wouldn't be just theirs anymore. But for now, she was, and Jon had his entire world in this room. 

"I fucking love you so much, Sansa," he told her, standing with their daughter in his arms and settling himself beside her on her hospital bed. 

Genny woke and like she'd been doing this for years, Sansa positioned her at her breast so she could nurse. The sight blew Jon's mind, and he cradled the two of them in his arms. 

Sansa sighed contentedly and leaned against him, loving his stable weight at her back. It had over a year since the terrible incident that had nearly made her a widow. Somehow, against all the odds, Jon had survived. Now here they were, stronger than ever with their daughter in their arms. 

"I love you, Jon Snow." 

"I love you, Sansa Snow," he told her, right before he kissed her again. 

* * *

"Genny and Henry Snow! Get in here and clean up your mess," Sansa called out as her four year old and three year old had left their dishes on the table. They'd heard Uncle Sandor come in the door and had sprinted off to find him. 

Sansa heard giggles and then the patter of little feet as they came running back into the massive kitchen. Sandor had his son strapped to his chest in a baby sling, and Sansa thought it was adorable, although she didn't dare say anything. Her other son, one-year-old Greyson, was napping, and she thanked the gods that her house was big enough that yelling at the two oldest wouldn't wake him. 

"Hey LB, what's the issue," Sandor said, a grin on his face. 

Jon was golfing today with her Dad and Robb, but Sandor had begged off. His son, Evan, was only a few weeks old, and he liked staying close to his wife and newborn baby. He was just as protective of them as he had been with Sansa, through all her pregnancies. 

"My issue is my children are piggies," she said, making an oinking noise as Henry and Genny giggled. 

Genny was the spitting image of her, with her long, lean body and red hair, while Henry was a mini Jon. He was serious like her husband as well, and followed his bossy big sister around faithfully, doing anything she ordered him to do. 

"Sorry, Mama," they chirped, and Sansa shook her head. 

"Clean up, and then we can read a story before Grey wakes up, ok?" 

They scrambled to do her bidding and then washed their hands before they piled onto the couch in the Great Room, books in hand. Sandor was stretched out on one of the sofas and muted his beloved Ellen when Sansa took a seat. He and Jeyne had built on the property adjacent to theirs, and he was often over at their house. 

"How's Jeyne?" Sansa asked. She loved that her best friend had married Jon's best friend. 

"Tired. Told her to sleep." 

Sansa's phone chimed. 

**Jon**: Hey, sexy mama. How are you? 

**Sansa**: Good. Grey's asleep. Sandor's here. Just about to read to the kids. 

**Jon**: Should I pick up dinner? 

**Sansa**: That would be amazing. 

**Jon**: Just finishing up. Home soon. Love you! 

Sansa smiled. They'd just celebrated their tenth wedding anniversary and were as in love as ever. Jon and Sandor's business was a huge success, and their nest egg from Elia Martell had given them financial security. Their life in the North was charmed, and even though Tormund and Brienne never moved to Wintertown, for the most part, things were almost perfect. 

Sansa had quit her job as a nurse, for now, to be a stay at home Mom. It was a role she loved, and she secretly hoped that the twinges of nausea that she'd had the past two mornings meant she was pregnant again. She and Jon both loved their growing family, and her husband was an amazing father. 

Three stories later, the kids bolted off the couch when they heard the garage door open. Sandor had booked out after the story about Green Eggs and Ham. The kids could go on for hours, rhyming. 

"Daddy!!!!" they screamed as the baby monitor went, and Greyson woke. 

Knowing Jon had the oldest two, Sansa snuck into the nursery and picked up her baby. He snuggled close, sucking his thumb and murmuring mama. Sansa lived for baby snuggles, and she held him for a moment before she changed him and kept him in her arms. Once he fully woke up, he'd be a terror. There wasn't a bone in his body that made him afraid of anything, and he was a going concern. But he was also an A+ cuddler when he was tired. 

Sansa walked into the kitchen to see that Jon had Henry and Genny sitting on the island, telling them a funny story about Papa Ned and golf. His eyes lit with love and desire when he spotted her, and Sansa felt herself blush. She had no idea how her husband could smoulder at her after a decade, but she wouldn't complain. Three children hadn't exactly been kind to her body, and she knew she was wider in some places, saggier in others, and not quite as firm in even more. 

And yet her husband wanted her every single day it seemed like. If anything, he seemed to want her more as the years passed, and she wasn't one to complain. Jon Snow was a fine-looking man, and he was all hers. 

"Hey baby," he murmured, pressing a heated kiss to her lips. 

"Ewww, daddy!" Genny complained, but Sansa saw her smile. 

"Not eww! Daddy loves Mama!" Jon told them, wiggling his eyebrows at them and making them laugh. 

"Hey, love," Sansa said back and pressed herself to him so that he had her and Greyson in his arms. 

"How are my loves?" Jon asked, and the kids eagerly told him about their day, while Sansa set Greyson down and watched him toddle off. 

"Watch him, Gen," she called and laughed as Jon squeezed her butt. 

"Fuck baby," he whispered in her ear. "I've been thinking about you all day." 

Sansa felt his hard cock against her ass, and wiggled a bit, loving it when he groaned. Then he grabbed her boob and she gave a bit of a pained yelp. He hadn't been overly hard, but it was sensitive. Jon stilled. 

"San?" 

She turned and saw the hope in his eyes. "Are you…?" 

"I don't know. I haven't taken a test, but my stomach's been a bit queasy," she said. 

"Do you have a test here?" 

She nodded. He pulled her close. "Go take it, baby. I'll watch the kids." 

"Ok." Sansa was just about out of the kitchen when Jon called out, "And bring it right back here. I need to see if my boys are still working, baby!" 

"I'm working Daddy," Henry said, pushing a little toy grocery buggy, and Jon's laughter followed Sansa out of the room and down the hallway. 

She took out the test, peed and then capped it, wiping it down and walking back towards her family. She was accosted by Grey, who was babbling, so she handed the test to Jon. He glanced down immediately, and the massive smile on his face told Sansa everything she needed to know. 

"Damn, I'm good," he said, shit-eating grin on his face. 

Sansa just shook her head at him but was just as pleased as she was. This life was everything she wanted it to be. 

* * *

Eight months later, Hadley Lyanna Snow came into the world. This time, Sansa's labour wasn't quite so easy, and she lost a lot of blood. Shortly after she'd given birth, they'd whisked her into the OR to try to get things under control. Hours later, when she was back in recovery, they learned that she would most likely never be able to have another baby safety. 

While Sansa wept at that thought, she was reminded of the four precious children that she had and the husband who loved her beyond all reason. 

"You ok?" Jon asked when they were finally alone with their newest family member. 

"I will be. I'm not sure I even wanted any more children, but to have the choice taken away sucks," she said, a bit sadly. 

He nodded, but she saw his eyes were haunted. 

"Talk to me," she said. 

"Fuck San, I thought you were going to be taken from me. I've never been so fucking scared in my whole life," Jon said, and she saw he meant every word. 

"I'm here, and I'm alright, Jon." 

"You're everything, baby. I just can't even imagine life without you," he told her raggedly, and they wept together, both realizing how close their lives had come, once again, to being irrevocably changed. 

When Sansa was finally released from the hospital, she allowed Jon to hire help- both a house cleaner and a nanny so that she could recover fully and spend her time doting on her last baby. 

Years later, when both their house cleaner and nanny were still with them, Sansa would joke that it was the best present her husband had ever given her. Their house was massive, and four small children required all the help they could get. 

Sansa often traced the faint scars that were on her husband's body when they lay cuddled in each other's arms. She had a corresponding one on her stomach, and both knew they'd dodged some pretty big bullets to have the life they did. 

They had been blessed with four healthy children, a love that rivalled that of the great love stories and one of the strongest marriages of anyone they knew. 

And every single night, before they went to sleep, Sansa whispered to Jon, "Stay with me." 

And her husband always pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, "Always, my love. Always." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp! My first Jonsa! Tell me how I did!!!
> 
> And let me know if you want more!!!
> 
> Cheers
> 
> T

**Author's Note:**

> I always love to hear from readers
> 
> Find me on tumblr at: tmwritesromance


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